Owl Posts
by shadowycat
Summary: This is a selection of short stories that were written in response to various online Harry Potter challenges.
1. Bewitching the Mind

                                                                                                            **Owl Posts**

This is an anthology of short fanfiction stories that were written for different on-line challenges.  This particular group of stories was written for a LiveJournal community called 30-Minute Fics, run by the talented Leogryffin.  Each of the chapters will be a story that is complete in itself and has no relation to any other chapter or to any other story that I have written.  I may or may not revisit some of these at a later time and turn them into longer tales.  I would always welcome opinions on any that readers might like to see more of.

All stories are related to the Harry Potter Universe, but subjects, tone, and characters will vary.  Each chapter is a response to a specific challenge that's detailed in the beginning of the chapter.  Unless stated otherwise, they were each written within 30 minutes time.  I've cleaned up the punctuation and grammar before posting them here.  However, these are not highly polished stories.  They were written under extreme time constraint and are meant strictly for fun.

I've really enjoyed the challenge of writing these little stories, and I hope you'll get some enjoyment out of reading them.

**Disclaimer**:  As always, I own nothing of the Harry Potter Universe.  No infringement of rights is intended…I am still poor as a churchmouse and am making no money off any of this.  I am having a lot of fun, though. :)

Thanks~ shadowycat 

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Challenge #12   The First Person Horror Story 30 Minute Challenge!  You're a Harry Potter character.  Something really scary happens.  Describe it in gory first person detail and tell us what the outcome is.

Title:  Bewitching the Mind, Ensnaring the Potions Master

Rating: G

Author's notes:  This is Snape's version of a horribly scary incident. :)  This was also my first attempt to write a coherent tale in only thirty minutes.

**"Bewitching the Mind, Ensnaring the Potions Master"**

Oh my God…it's finally happened!  I planned so well to avoid this, but it seems that I've lost out in the end.  What an ignominious fate.  That I, the feared Potions Master, hated and dreaded by the entire student body should come to this.  

How did it happen anyway?  I planned my route to the Great Hall so carefully, looked around every corner and listened at every door.  I even stooped so low as to enlist the aid of the house elves in avoiding any cunning traps and had the little pests spy on my enemy and tattle back to me with ever increasing frequency.  Could they have possibly lied to me?  Misled me on purpose?  Would they dare?  This route was supposed to be clear of these insidious snares.  That insufferable little toady Dobby assured me of that personally just this morning.  He'll regret the day he ever left the Malfoy's service and showed his ugly face around here you can be sure.

He's Potter's creature, though.  Why should I have ever trusted him?  Surely I should know better than that.  A foolish mistake that I'll never make again, if I live that long that is.  Oh, god, my time is running out!  My enemy approaches.

My back is to the wall and escape seems to be utterly cut off.  Flitwick stands to my left with a smirk on his smug little face.  He'll get his the next time he comes to me looking for headache relieving potion.  The little twit will get much more than he bargains for…much more.  McGonagall blocks escape to the right pretending that she doesn't see the horror that approaches, but I can see the gleam of malice in her eyes.  She'll get hers, too.  Wait and see if she doesn't.

The stonewall behind my back feels so cold and hard and confining and my head suddenly feels so hot and strange.  My focus is narrowing down to one small vision of horror.  Those nasty sucking lips come closer and closer.  I feel faint.  No!  Don't give in.  If a creature like this senses fear the whole thing gets ever so much worse. 

There's simply no way out so I'll just have to grit my teeth and get it over with as quickly as possible.  Never let the enemy see the fear in your heart!  Never!

My eyes turn upward and scan the offending branch with it's soft white berries and bright green leaves as it hangs so innocently above my condemned head like the sword of Damocles passing judgment on my soul.  I drop my eyes once more to the woman in front of me.  Like a cobra confronting its victim she moves ever closer, closer, until all I can see are her huge glistening eyes and that pursed mouth which descends suddenly on mine.

A brief moment of agony and finally it's over.  I breathe once more as the woman moves away at last in a cloud of perfume and a flash of filmy scarves.

In a daze, my ringing ears hear her insufferably smug voice as it echoes throughout my head like a death knell.

"Merry Christmas, Severus.  I predicted that I'd see you here.  The inner eye never lies"


	2. Loving Large

Challenge #13   This challenge was basically to write about what or who you think of in the Harry Potter Universe when you hear the lyrics to "Happy" by Bruce Springsteen.

Title: Loving Large

Rating: G

Pairing: Hagrid/Olympe

Author's notes:  This was my first real attempt at writing Hagrid.

**"Loving Large"**

"I've always been a happy guy.  No worries in particular.  I have a good roof over my head.  Lotsa friends…lotsa good friends.  I gotta job I love an I work for the greatest wizard the world has ever seen.  Got you ter keep me comp'ny, Fang…always thought that'd be enough, ya know?  Never really wanted or expected any more.  How much stuff should a guy ask for anyways…would'na want to be greedy or nothing. Heh."

A sigh rent the silence as a wolf howled in the distance and the fire crackled merrily in the stillness keeping out the cold and the more interesting creatures at bay.  Hagrid raised his head and stared off into the darkness for a moment then resumed his perusal of the flames.

He reached out and stroked Fang's large head and looked down into his adoring eyes.  "Thought your comp'ny was all I needed old friend, but I was wrong, ya see.  When I met her…sumpthin' happened…sumpthin' wonderful.  I've never felt anythin' like it before.  Even though she didn't want ter admit it at first…she felt it too.  I could tell.  She's lots smarter and more accomplished than I am, o' course, but that didn't seem ta matter.  We connected on a level that most other folks just can't…because we have sumpthin' in common that no one else can really understand."

"Even though this summer didna work out quite the way that Dumbledore hoped…great man Dumbledore, big thinker, ya know…it was a wonderful time for me and Olympe.  All that time on the road to talk and get ter know each other.  Then at night when we'd bed down and try ta sleep, she'd snuggle up next ta me."  He smiled and scratched his friend's head affectionately, "For warmth, she'd say and smile knowingly.  Heh…I knew better all right.  It weren't that cold…not for us anyways."

"The nights on the road were the most special time, all right.  I was so happy when the sun would start ta set because I knew it meant that soon I'd be able to hold her close ta me and talk and dream…an maybe sneak a kiss or two, if she was in the mood, ya know."

He got up and stretched and looked up at the stars sparkling overhead in the stillness of the night.  

"Wherever you are tonight, Olympe…I hope you're thinkin' o' me like I'm thinkin' o' you.  I'm sorry that the summer's gone, but I'm still happy w' the memories.  An' I'm lookin' forward ter the next time I see ya'.  Ain't love great, Fang?  Keeps ya warm even when the one ya love ain't with ya.  But I can dream, can't I?  Another thing the night is good for, eh?"

With a final contented sigh, the half-giant turned and walked back towards his cozy little hut with his friend by his side, heading off to bed…perchance to dream…come the dark.


	3. Theoretically

Challenge #14  Write a little humorous drabble on any subject matter you want, but it must include Albus Dumbledore failing to be omniscent about something.

Title: Theoretically

Rating: G

Author's notes:  Snape, McGonagall, and Lupin come for a meeting, but Dumbledore has more important things on his mind.

**"Theoretically"**

"Come in."  Dumbledore's voice floated out to those beyond his office door in a mellow cloud of peacefulness.

Snape, McGonagall, and Lupin exchanged glances.  What would have put Albus in such a good mood?  Things hadn't been going at all well earlier.  Filled with curiosity they opened the door and entered the office.

Chairs had been set up to fill most of the open space and three house elves were moving around setting out trays of food in anticipation of the meeting.

The three entrants were the first to arrive for the meeting, so they crossed the room to where Dumbledore sat serenely behind his desk.  Serene was definitely the word for it, too.  The Headmaster sat in his chair with his elbows on the table and his hands pressed together lightly at the fingertips as if he was praying.  His head was slightly tilted back, and his eyes were closed.  His lips curved up in a delicate smile, and he was humming faintly in a toneless voice.

His desk was covered with crumpled papers and an unopened package of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans sat on the nearest corner.

McGonagall frowned in concern.  "Albus, are you all right?"

Dumbledore ceased his humming and nodded with a beatific smile gracing his face.  "Yes, Minerva, I'm fine.  I'm about to conduct a little experiment, and I need to be in the proper frame of mind, that's all.  Please have a seat."

Snape and McGonagall exchanged glances and remained standing.  Lupin shrugged amiably and took the nearest seat to the desk and began munching on a snack.

"What is this experiment, Albus, if I may ask?" inquired Snape cautiously.

Dumbledore continued to smile as he spoke in a decidedly dreamy voice.  "Well, Severus, as you know I dearly love Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, but I have rarely had the good fortune to eat one that was a pleasant flavour since I was a child.  I began to think that there had to be a reason for this.  A streak of bad luck that has managed to last for over 80 years is a little suspicious…at least to me.  So I decided to examine the problem from every angle that I could think of.  The good flavours exist…I have on very rare occasions managed to eat one or two myself, and I know that others eat them all the time.  Hagrid, for example, rarely if ever, gets a bad one."

"So I thought about how one could analyze the beans to determine in advance which ones were the good ones…and which ones were the stinkers."  He nodded in satisfaction but didn't open his eyes or move from his relaxed posture.

Snape and McGonagall continued to stare and Lupin continued to munch contentedly…so the Headmaster continued to speak.

"The first thing I tried was a sorting spell to weed out the bad ones.  I know that has worked for you on occasion, Severus."

Snape rolled his eyes and glanced away.  McGonagall smiled.

"However it didn't seem to be very effective for me.  So I decided to try sorting them by hand.  I divided them by colour, then by texture, then by smell…they do have different odors, have you noticed?  Although the smell doesn't really seem to correspond to the flavour in any way that I could discern.  Anyway.  None of those things seemed to work.  I also tried dividing them by size and shape.  No luck.  Then I hit on the idea of having someone else eat them until they found a tasty one.  Once they did, I could then select an identical one and that should, theoretically, also be good and exactly the same.  Well, when that didn't work…after several disappointing tries.  I began to rethink the problem."

Snape and McGonagall exchanged amused glances and Lupin continued to rustle his bag and munch away.

Dumbledore's voice brimmed with barely concealed excitement, "I decided that perhaps the beans were magical in more than their flavours.  Perhaps the emotional state of the consumer might have some influence on whether of not the taste of the selected beans was palatable or not.  Hagrid, for instance, is almost always in a pleasant and unworried state of mind, and he almost never gets a bad bean.  So I am about to test my theory.  I have spent the last hour in meditation preparing myself mentally for the challenge of eating the beans in a thoroughly relaxed and happy state of mind."

Snape made a small noise of undetermined meaning and glanced away from the desk to hide his expression.  Minerva glanced down at the contented Lupin and then back to Dumbledore with a bemused look on her face.   "Well, you seem to have thought this through very carefully, Albus, but I'm afraid there's one thing that you forgot to take into account."

The sound of crumpling paper came from Lupin's chair as Dumbledore frowned slightly and opened his eyes to gaze in confusion at his colleague.  "I believe I've thought of everything Minerva.  What do you think I've over looked?" he asked in puzzlement.

The amused witch gestured at Lupin and remarked, "Remus' appetite."

Dumbledore glanced over at the werewolf who was sitting there with a confused look on his face and an empty bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans crumpled up in his hands.  "What?  Did I miss something?" he asked in confusion.

Dumbledore's face crumpled into defeat and he dropped his chin into his hand.  "Oh, well, I suppose I'll just have to try again another time.  This string of bad luck can't last forever, after all…can it?"


	4. Happily Ever After

Challenge #15   Write the common "ship" that squicks you the most.  Think of the last popular HP "ship" that you'd ever write and then write it.

Title:  Happily Ever After

Rating:  PG

Pairing: SS/HG

Author's notes:  This was a very tough one for me as I definitely am not fond of HG/SS, and it was tough to write them as a couple, happy or not.  This piece took 25 minutes.

**"Happily Ever After"**

Hermione moved briskly around their dungeon quarters picking up clothing and toys while Severus sat at his desk and continued to make notes on a piece of parchment.  She watched him from the corner of her eye as she debated how best to get her way.  Her husband was notoriously stubborn, of course, but she'd always been able to get around him before.  Why should this time be any different?

"Mum and Dad were so excited that we'd be spending Christmas with them, Severus.  Won't you change your mind and come with me?  This'll be our first Christmas since having the baby…surely you don't want to spend it alone?  Do you?"

Snape shrugged his shoulders and didn't look up from his writing as he answered her in a cold tone.  "We've discussed this thoroughly.  You know how I feel about the sentimentality of Christmas, Hermione.  I always use the Christmas break to complete my inventory. A trip would be a total waste of valuable time as far as I'm concerned, and you know how I loathe spending any length of time in the Muggle world.  If you wish to spend Christmas with me then you'll simply have to stay here…as I will not be accompanying you to your parent's home." 

Hermione dropped the toys in her hand and moved over to the desk to drape herself over her husband's shoulders and run a teasing hand up his arm as she whispered seductively against his ear.  "Oh, come on, Severus.  We can have some time alone…just the two of us.  My folks can't wait to babysit…and they have a hot tub.  A big private hot tub.  Just think of how much fun we can have in that…hmmmm."

Snape straightened up abruptly and shrugged her off.  "Well, at least you'll be clean when you return then."

Hermione pulled back as if slapped and angrily whirled around to reclaim the baby's things that she'd dropped when she'd attempted to persuade her husband to join her.  "Fine then!  Don't come!  See if we care.  We'll have a much better time without you anyway.  I don't know why you have to be so nasty and cold, Severus.  There's no need for it.  We could be so happy if you'd only relax and let yourself go sometimes."

"You mean become someone I am not?" he inquired softly.

"Ohh…Why did you ever marry me anyway only to treat me like this?" the annoyed witch pouted.

In a flash, Snape was up out of his chair and across the room seizing her roughly by the arm and pulling her close to his body.  She could feel the tautness of his muscles as he held her body firmly against his…feel the warmth of his breath caress her as he bend down to speak quietly…see the anger simmering wildly within the dark depths of his eyes.

"You know the answer to that one don't you, my dear?"  His voice was low and deceptively soft in its menace, and his tone and demeanor made her shiver in fear.  "Our union was forced on me by others with power over my life.  We married because of that child in the next room…the one whom you promised was mine.  And indeed…perhaps he is, but do not think me ignorant of the circumstances of his conception.  You were ever a clever witch, Hermione.  You may have mastered the intricacies of a well made love potion, but you failed to remember that the effects do wear off…eventually."

She glared back at him with fury as she yanked her arm from his rough grasp and twisted her body away from his.  "What did I ever see in you?"  She flung at him in spite.

He straightened and raised an eyebrow.  "More than I ever saw in you."  With that quiet pronouncement, he turned and returned to his desk and the task that she had interrupted.


	5. Kiss of Life

Challenge #15   Write the common "ship" that squicks you the most.  Think of the last popular HP "ship" that you'd ever write and then write it.

Title:  Kiss of Life

Rating:  Mildly Disgusting

Pairing: SS/ST

Author's notes:  This isn't really a popular pairing, but it certainly squicks me. :) 

**"Kiss of Life"**

They all saw him fall as if in slow motion.  He inscribed a fluid arc in the air…graceful…breathtaking…until his head hit the stones with a sickening crack.  A broken black bird sprawled in disarray on the flagstones of the entrance hall heralded on his way by the screams of the terrified observers.

The adults all ran as fast as they could to crowd around uselessly and holler for help.  Where is Madam Pomfrey when she's most needed after all?  

"Is he dead?" squeaked Flitwick in a frightened tone.

"I'm not sure," answered McGonagall feeling for a non-existent pulse.

"Does anyone know CPR?" croaked Madam Sprout as she wrung her hands and dithered painfully.

McGonagall looked blankly up at her.  "CPR?  What in heaven's name is that?"

"You know…mouth to mouth.  It's just a fancy name that the Muggles give it."

Once her meaning was made clear there was a general stiffening and an instinctive group gasp and pulling back away from the body that lay sprawled so defenselessly on the stones in front of them.

McGonagall straightened her spectacles and glanced reluctantly back down at the motionless form in black.  "Oh dear…well…I suppose…"

"No need, Minerva.  I am well versed in the healing touch and the kiss of life.  I'll be more than happy to ministrate to poor Severus."  An ethereal voice floated down to Minerva as a surprisingly strong hand dropped onto her shoulder and yanked her back just as the Deputy Headmistress was bending back down to do her reluctant duty.

McGonagall moved aside with alacrity and allowed Sybil Trelawny to kneel down next to the prone figure of Severus Snape and take his head gently into her red tipped fingers.  She tilted his head back and allowed his slack lips to fall open gently as she bent down with a gleam in her eye to cover them completely with her own.

Lost in a warm darkness, Snape drifted along in peace…actually enjoying the utter lack of having any demands on him…nothing but peace and quiet as far as he could feel.  Suddenly he became aware of a slight stirring of his consciousness as if a warm breeze was wafting through him…invigorating him and driving the lassitude from his limbs.  Ever so gradually he became aware of the sensation of soft lips pressed sensuously to his own, breathing into his mouth with their need…their desire.  A voice whispered his name softly, seductively into his ear and tantalized him with its desire for his presence.

He began to swim upwards from out of the darkness towards the beckoning voice and sensuous lips.  Closer and closer he came, until, to the amazement of the circle of worried teachers who stood around his prone form, his long arms reached up and encircled the slender shoulders of the witch with her lips pressed to his and pulled her even closer responding to her kiss with ever increasing need of his own.

Slowly his eyes opened and a faint smile played across his normally dour face, which froze in horror as he found himself looking up into the incredibly smug face of Sybil Trelawny.  What was worse was that beyond her face, which was hovering much too close for his taste, a whole hoard of his colleagues stood about with huge smirks on their faces and stared down at him as he lay there on the ground wrapped in Sybil's possessive grasp.

Cold terrifying realization hit him right in the gut as the full shock of his current situation became crystal clear.  

"Welcome back, dear Severus." The witch simpered behind her huge spectacles and caressed his face lightly with her skinny hand.

"Yes, welcome back, Severus." McGonagall echoed with a touch of mockery in her tone.  "We were afraid you were going to leave us for a moment there.  Fortunately Sybil is well versed in the "kiss of life" so we just made room and let her have at it."

Snape closed his eyes and listened to the blood pounding out a beat in his head that sounded far too much like a wedding march for his comfort.  "Oh no…I couldn't get that lucky…I will get you for this, Minerva if it takes me the rest of my life and into the next," he murmured softly as the blessed darkness rose up and claimed him once more.


	6. Moon Time

Challenge #15   Write the common "ship" that squicks you the most.  Think of the last popular HP "ship" that you'd ever write and then write it.

Title: Moon Time

Rating: PG

Pairing: SB/RL

Author's Notes:  I don't write slash.  So this is a pairing that I would definitely never ordinarily write. 

**"Moon Time"**

Remus Lupin stared at the Whomping Willow.  That tree had been his savior…his jailer…for a lot of years.  So many memories…not all of them bad…just most of them.  A deep sigh escaped his throat.  He was stalling, and he knew it, enjoying his last few minutes of freedom as a man before descending once again into the twilight existence of the wolf.

A strong arm reached over and encircled his shoulders comfortingly.  "Don't worry, Remus.  I'll be with you every step of the way.  You know you can always count on me…don't you?"

A warm thrill of comfort and affection shot through him at the loving tone that caressed his ears and buoyed his soul.  He turned and looked gratefully into the dark eyes of the man leaning against him.  "Of course I know you'll always be there for me, Sirius, and I appreciate that more than I can ever express.  It's just so hard to face this.  You'd think after all these years it'd get easier, but it doesn't.  I fear and hate it just as much now as I did the very first time."

Sirius tightened his grip on his lover's shoulders.  "Does having my company help at all?  I mean I know we always thought it did when we were in school, but we were just kids then.  I know that I didn't really understand what this was like for you…even though I watched you transform several times, it didn't really sink in how horrible an experience it was and how much you hated it.  Hell…I usually looked forward to the full moon.  For me it was fun for all of us to get together in animal form and run and howl and tear up the countryside.  I feel like an idiot now when I look back on it.  I'm sorry."

Lupin smiled and lifted a hand to brush back the hair from Sirius' worry creased forehead.  "Don't be sorry.  As you say…we were just kids then.  And I did enjoy the camaraderie of our monthly prowls, too.  But…yeah…it helps a lot to have you come with me, especially now when I have the use of the Wolfsbane potion.   When I'm alone the demons are so much worse.  Even with the potion, I can feel the wolf in my mind clawing at my soul demanding ascendancy.  It's much easier to fight that back if I have company during those long dark hours of confinement.  And it means even more that the company is yours, Sirius."

Sirius ran his long fingers through the werewolf's shaggy hair and caressed his shoulder lovingly.  "I'm glad.  I always want to be there for you…to help…in any way I can."

Suddenly a rustle in the trees caught their attention as a bat fluttered out of the branches and was silhouetted faintly against the gloom of the twilight sky.

Lupin swallowed hard as he gazed up at the first of the shimmering stars to make its appearance in the velvet blanket of night.

"Better go, I guess," he whispered quietly.  

With a nod and a squeeze his partner agreed, "Yeah…it's time."

Together the two men turned away from the outside world and headed off to face their imprisonment together against the harsh silvered light of the moon.


	7. Foreplay

Challenge #15   Write the common "ship" that squicks you the most.  Think of the last popular HP "ship" that you'd ever write and then write it.

Title:  Foreplay

Rating:  PG-13

Pairing:  That would be telling. :)

Author's Note:  This one was a surprise to me.  Twenty three minutes.

**"Foreplay"**

Minerva McGonagall entered her quarters in a huff, slamming the door behind her.  She stomped over to an easy chair before the fire and angrily yanked off her robe, which she tossed down onto the chair back where it joined another that was already draped over it.

Her steps took her on into her bedroom, as she fumbled with the fastenings of her gown.  Her voice, usually a bit formal in tone, was now strident with her annoyance and without preamble she began to lecture the figure who was reclining comfortably in her bed perusing a book.

"I have just about had it with the heavy handed tactics of the Ministry of Magic!  Have you read the latest requirements?  Have you?"  Without waiting for an answer, she crossed to the dresser and yanked off her jewelry as she continued her monologue unabated.

"Oh…of course you have…forms…forms…forms…for every student!  Explanations of every move I make!  Now I have to defend my entire curriculum to some know nothing paper pusher before I'll be allowed to continue teaching!  Me!  After all these years…and all the students who have come through my class and successfully graduated with honors…now…suddenly…I might Not Be COMPETENT to teach Transfiguration???"

The enraged witch stood in the center of the room and gestured rather rudely to the ceiling as the figure in the bed set his book aside and watched with amusement.

"You're not alone, you know.  Everyone has to jump through these humiliating hoops at the moment."  A dry voice cut into her thoughts.

She directed a quelling glare at her lover and continued with a second wind, "Do you really think that makes it any less insulting?  Does it to you?  Of course not!  It's a ridiculous waste of time!  It took me three hours…three HOURS (!) to fill out the stupid forms required for one class alone!  When am I expected to get any teaching done?"

She kicked her shoes across the room…narrowly missing an ancient pier glass that shrieked out its displeasure.

Minerva stalked across the room and turned the glass to the wall with an impatient motion. "Oh, put a sock in it!"

The figure in the bed chuckled dryly.  "Calm down, Minerva.  You'll wear yourself out, and that's supposed to be my job."

Minerva shot a glare at the mocking eyes, and continued on as she had been.  She paced and she harangued and she complained on and on until she heard the bed springs creak and turned to see her companion getting out of the bed and reaching for his clothes.

"Where are you going?" she snapped.

"I really don't have any further desire to continue to lie here naked and listen to you complain about the Ministry of Magic.  If your idea of foreplay is to indulge in some self-pitying diatribe about the Ministry rather than come to bed with me…then you can conduct it alone." His voice dripped contempt.  "I'll just go back to my own quarters…if you wish for my company…you know where to find me…use a silencing spell first."

Minerva blinked and a shiver ran through her as she looked at her lover standing there in all his glory with his arms crossed over his chest and his manhood at full sail.

Quickly she crossed the room and seized his face in her hands and kissed him passionately.  When she pulled back, she sighed. "I'm sorry for going on and on like that."  Then she smiled. "Judging by your response, I'd have to say that you seem to find my form of "foreplay" to be at least somewhat arousing.  Admit it, Severus…you've always enjoyed a good tirade yourself."

His arms came up around her and pulled her closer. "Well…I'm certainly willing to go with whatever works," he murmured softly and bent to kiss her once more.


	8. Revolving Door

**Challenge #16:  The book did it.  A book causes something…anything…to happen.  The book doesn't have to be magic, but it has to be integral to the plot.**

Title:  Revolving Door

Rating:  PG-13

Pairings:  Malfoys and their guests.

Author's notes:  Snape has a little mission to perform for Dumbledore.   It didn't sound difficult……   This one took 33 minutes.

**"Revolving Door"**

Snape rifled through the papers on Malfoy's desk in his private study impatiently.  Where was the damn thing anyway?  Dumbledore had been so sure that it would be here, though how he could possibly know where Lucius would keep a personal family journal was beyond Snape's understanding.  Quickly he ran his slender fingers along the edges of the desk, feeling for any unusual protuberances that might spring a hidden catch.  To his surprise, he hit one almost immediately.  With a soft snick, a small shallow drawer slid open and inside was a slim volume bound in green leather and stamped with the pretentious Malfoy crest in dusky silver.

With a sigh of relief, Snape slipped the book into the hidden pocket inside his robes, slid the drawer shut and turned to leave the room as fast as possible.  Before he could move even two feet from the desk though, the sound of low voices came from the other side of the door and the knob began to shiver in anticipation of someone entering the room.

With a sharp mental expletive resounding loudly through his thoughts, Snape threw himself behind the heavy damask draperies that hung on either side of the large window.  Hoping that he was completely hidden from view, he waited tensely as he heard Lucius Malfoy himself enter the room…and he wasn't alone.

From the sickening sounds of amorous bullshit that suddenly filled the room, Snape ascertained that Lucius was about to make a quick conquest of one of the temporary chambermaids on the soft brown leather of the over sized sofa that sat against the opposite wall.  Hoping that Lucius would be anxious to return to his house full of party guests and wouldn't want to dally too long with a mere maid, Snape resigned himself to having to listen to the tedious sounds of Lucius Malfoy's Conquest du Jour.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door closed behind Lucius and the maid, and Snape expelled a sigh of relief.  Trust Lucius to provide the entertainment for a spot of burglary.  After waiting for what he assumed would be a decent interval in order to allow Lucius to be far enough away from the study so as not to see him emerge from the scene of the crime, Snape moved out from behind the draperies and started across the room only to have to whirl around and dive for cover once more as the door to the study opened again.

Not having been able to reach the relative comfort and safety of the draperies this time, Snape found himself folding his long legs into a pretzel shape and squeezing under Lucius' desk, as once more he was forced to listen to Lucius as he attempted yet another romantic interlude…this time with Lady Brandle, one of the wealthy party guests, and if he wasn't mistaken, a fairly close friend of Narcissa.  The next few minutes passed in agonizing slowness as Snape felt his legs go completely to sleep as he was regaled yet again with the nauseating sounds of Lucius' amorous activities.  

Finally Lucius left the room once more and Snape crawled out from under the desk cursing Malfoys everywhere under his breath.  After briskly massaging some life back into his extremities, he picked himself up off the floor, felt at his pocket to be sure that his prize was secure…god knows he wouldn't want to lose it after all this, then headed for the door as fast as he could.

He could hardly believe his eyes when the door began to open once more, and he barely had time to throw himself behind the brown leather sofa that had seen so much activity in the past hour before Lucius was back yet again.  This time with Lord Tutwhiler, a big financial backer of the Dark Lord's activities.  Fortunately…"business" was carried out on the desk this time and not the sofa, but still Snape found himself cringing as he was once more forced to listen to the very last thing on earth that he ever wanted to eavesdrop on.

Once Lucius' most recent fling was finished and Snape found himself alone in the room at last.  He wasted no more time crawling out from behind the sofa and getting to his feet.  He brushed himself off quickly and before Lucius could possibly make another appearance with yet another sexual conquest, Snape grabbed the doorknob and pulled the door open to find himself face to face with Narcissa.

"Narcissa….how…nice to see you," he stated resignedly.  Wondering vaguely just which deity he'd managed to tick off so spectacularly.

The blond witch smiled a predatory smile at him and responded, "Good evening, Severus.  It's nice to see you, too.  I've been hoping for a moment alone with you all night.  Have you seen Lucius anywhere?"

Wishing that he could truthfully answer no, he shook his head negatively instead…afraid to give voice to the rather monstrous lie.  His nose was big enough after all.

Narcissa's smile broadened, "Good…I was hoping you'd say that."  Then with a swift movement, she took Snape's arm and gently but firmly guided him back into the study as she closed the door soundly behind them.

                                          *********************************************************************************

Snape threw the small green book down onto Dumbledore's desk with disgust.

"I hope this is what you were looking for Albus, and it had better have been worth it because I never want to go through another evening like that again for the rest of my life!  Next time…you can go rifle through the Malfoy's garbage yourself!  Now if you'll excuse me…I need a long…hot…bath…and a very stiff drink."

With that pronouncement, the Potions Master whirled around and stalked out of the room slamming the door firmly behind him.  Dumbledore frowned after him as he picked up the book on his desk and began to turn the pages avidly.  "Wonder what got into him?" he muttered as he flipped one page after another.  "Oh well…now let's see…surely the Malfoy family custard recipe will be in here someplace."


	9. Compelling

**Challenge #16:  The book did it.  A book causes something…anything…to happen.  The book doesn't have to be magic, but it has to be integral to the plot.**

Title:  Compelling

Rating:  PG

Author's Note:  Hermione wishes for something compelling to read.

**"Compelling"**

Hermione and Lavender made their way along the corridor on their way to the library after dinner.  The school year was at its most tedious point…time stretched equally before and behind them, and it seemed as if one day was pretty much the same as the next.  Hermione was bored.

"I haven't had anything interesting to read in the longest time!  Classes have been so boring lately, it's been a struggle just to stay awake.  No one has assigned any interesting work or a paper on some worthwhile subject in ages." Hermione complained bitterly.

Lavender snorted and rolled her eyes, "Oh yes…I'm just pining away from lack of interesting homework.  Get real, Hermione.  Most people are okay with a lack of "papers on worthwhile subjects"."

Hermione hunched her shoulders and glared at her roommate.  "Well…at the very least I need to find a good book to read.  All the books I've read lately have been dry and uninteresting.  I need an imaginative book…I need a compelling book."

Just as Hermione voiced her desire aloud a door shimmered into existence in the section of wall that the girls were passing.

Lavender chuckled, "Well…there you go, Hermione.  The castle heard you and apparently your wish is its command.  I'll bet there's a whole library of fascinating reading in there just waiting for you.  Why don't you check it out?  I'll see you later."

With a wave of her hand, Lavender continued on down the corridor leaving Hermione standing alone in front of the door to what she assumed would be a room of requirement…tailor made for the bored reader.  Anxious to discover if Lavender was right or not, Hermione twisted the knob and opened the door.

She expected to find a room full of books behind the door so she was surprised to find a virtually empty room instead.  In the middle of the room was a single carved wooden bookstand which held a single small and unassuming leather bound volume.  Intrigued, Hermione crossed the room and opened the book.  As soon as her fingers touched the cover a shimmer of warmth flushed through her, leaving a tingling feeling that lingered in her fingertips.  How odd.

She looked down at the printing on the first page of the book.  It read…Take me.  She picked up the book and turned to the next page.  It read…Keep me.  Her hands tingled.  She turned the next page…it read…Tell no one about me.  A shiver of apprehension began to take root in her stomach.  With a trembling in her hands she dropped the book back onto the stand and turned away to leave the room.  Immediately she was overcome with an intense wave of nausea.  Her head began to pound incessantly and her limbs began to shake.

Scared now, she willed herself to take a step away from the bookstand and to leave the room, but instead she found herself compelled to turn around and grasp the book in her shaking hands once more.  As soon as she picked up the insidious little volume the nausea vanished as if it had never been and a cold feeling of dread took up residence in the pit of her stomach.

The fearful witch looked down at the book and quickly turned to the next page….Play a prank…it read.  With a terrible sinking feeling she felt her feet begin to move as her hand reached into her pocket for her wand.  As firmly as she knew the sun would rise tomorrow, she knew that she no longer had any choice in the matter…she had to play a prank on someone and soon.

        *******************************************************************************************************************

Hermione ran around the corner and threw herself onto the portrait of the fat lady as she screamed the password in a trembling voice.  She crawled through the now open hole and into the common room more grateful than ever that the room was empty.  What was she going to do?  This hideous book was compelling her to do horrible hurtful things to her friends and teachers alike.  It was going to take ages for poor Neville to wash all that purple dye off his skin, and if Professor Snape ever discovered that she was the one who caused his robe to try to strangle him, she knew she'd be expelled before she could take another breath.

But every time she tried to tell someone about the book…suddenly words failed her completely.   This couldn't go on forever…surely the book would run out of commands eventually.  It was a small book after all, but the things it wanted…the things it compelled her to do were getting worse and worse.  If Professor Snape hadn't been able to get that robe off of his neck in time it would have killed him!  SHE…would've killed him!

No!  Oh god…it was happening again!  Her fingers tingled once more.  Trembling fervently she pulled the book from her pocket again and against every fiber of her being, she turned to the next page…Burn something…it said.

Her eyes flew unbidden to the draperies.  No!  Fight it!  Don't let it win!  

Slowly she got up and approached the fireplace…her hand reached for the iron poker that stood by the side of the hearth to stir up the flames.  In the blink of an eye…before her mind could give her away and stop her only chance at escape…she flung the book into the flames that crackled warmly in front of her.

There was a wordless scream that echoed through her head and a tingling shiver flooded through her, and she dropped to the floor like a limp rag doll.  It was over…the compulsions were gone.  She was finally free at last.

Tears of relief streamed down her face…well that was the last time she'd ever wish for something compelling to read.  From now on she'd be perfectly content with whatever boring books came her way…well…probably.


	10. A Question of Decorating

**Challenge #18  The Polyjuice Challenge.  Where someone uses Polyjuice Potion for nefarious, funny, or entirely benevolent purposes.**

Title:  A Question of Decorating

Rating:  PG

Pairing:  Well…that is the question, isn't it?

**"A Question of Decorating"**

Minerva McGonagall raised her eyes from the parchment that she was reading as she sat at her desk and watched in surprise as Albus Dumbledore entered her classroom.

"Hello, Albus.  I wasn't expecting to see you this evening.  What can I do for you?" she asked politely.

The Headmaster smiled a mischievous smile and approached her desk with a twinkle in his eye and his hand held behind his back.

"Good evening, Minerva.  I just had a question to ask you if I might…in the spirit of Christmas."

A smile toyed with her lips as she put the parchment down on her desk, got up from her chair, and walked around to stand in front of her friend.  With a pleasantly innocent expression on her face, she asked, "What did you want to ask me, Albus?"

The Headmaster suddenly seemed a trifle nervous and fidgeted slightly as he gazed down at the composed witch who stood so straight and tall in front of him.  "Uh…it's a question of decorating, actually."

"Decorating?"  She seemed skeptical.  "I thought Flitwick and Hagrid had already finished with all the decorating.  Everything looks as well decorated as usual.  What still needs to be done?"

At this question, the wizard smiled eagerly and removed his hand from behind his back.  In his slightly trembling fingers he held a sprig of mistletoe.  "I wasn't quite sure where this should be hung.  Placement of mistletoe does need to be considered very carefully, you know.  I was rather hoping that you might be able to suggest just the right spot."  His eyes sparkled hopefully and his nervous smile tugged at her heart.

Spreading a comforting smile across her features, she reached out and took the mistletoe from his cold hands and held it over her own head.  Then she cocked her head and asked, "How's this?  Do you think it might be appropriate here?"

With a sigh of relief, the elder wizard smiled and bent closer to her as he murmured quietly, "Yes, that seems like the perfect place to me."

Without another word, he slipped his arms around her body and drew her closer to him as he placed a lovingly hopeful kiss on her lips.  She reacted by dropping the mistletoe and gathering him closer to her as she responded to his gentle hesitancy with a strong and lingeringly passionate kiss of her own.

His eyes sparkled with wonder and he gasped as she released him.  "Wow.  Um…thank you, Minerva.  I'd better be going now."

She nodded and smiled complacently.  "Of course, Albus.  Thank you for stopping in to consult me.  I hope I was helpful."

Dumbledore nodded happily.  "Oh, yes.  You always know exactly the right thing to do, Minerva.  What would I do without you?"

"I can't imagine," she added dryly, as Dumbledore turned and headed for the door.  

As he reached the doorway, she called after him.  "Happy Christmas….."Albus?"."

The figure in the doorway paused and smiled back at her sensing her true knowledge of the situation from the questioning tone of her voice.  Deciding not to respond to her unasked question with words…the figure merely winked at her and was gone.

With an amused chuckle to herself, Minerva returned to her desk and picked up the letter that she'd been reading.  The one that told her that she'd be in charge of the castle overnight because its Headmaster had to be away on urgent business.

She shook her head at the letter and then dropped her cheek into her hand with a smile of satisfaction on her face.  "Ah…T'is the season, isn't it?  I wonder who's been into the Polyjuice this year?" she mused to herself.


	11. Goodbye

**Challenge # 19:  New Year's Eve Challenge.  Please include: 1) a spell or potion that has not worked as intended, 2) alcoholic beverage of some type, 3) a kiss at midnight…of course.**

Title:  Goodbye

Rating: G

Characters:  Remus Lupin and Molly Weasley

**"Goodbye"**

Having followed the trail of lights up through the house, Molly opened the door of the bedroom that used to belong to Sirius Black…when he was still alive.  Her heart was pounding a wee bit harshly as she peered inside.  Who would be in here on New Year's Eve?  The house was supposed to be empty as far as she knew.  That's one of the reasons that she and Arthur had come here…to get a little peace and quiet for a bit.

The sight that greeted her was a surprise and a bit of a puzzle at the same time.  What was going on?

"Remus?" she whispered quietly.

The man who sat crumpled over in front of the fire started and raised his head hurriedly, turning to her in surprise.  His hand came up self-consciously and hastily wiped tears from his cheeks as he cleared his throat and responded to her voice.

"Molly?  What are you doing here?"

"I was just wondering the same thing about you, dear.  What's the matter?  Is something wrong?"  She entered the room and crossed over to stand next to Remus by the fire.

The werewolf sighed.  "Yeah…yeah…I'm all right.  Just…disappointed."  He closed a shabby looking book that he held in his hands and got up from the floor.  "I…eh…I was trying to cast a spell…but it didn't work."  He snorted sadly.  "Probably not a real spell anyway."

Molly wordlessly reached over and took the book from Remus' unresisting fingers.  Then she turned it over and opened it.  The writing within was badly faded, and the pages were worn and stained.   As near as she could make it out, it seemed to be a book about contacting the dead.  It looked very old.

She raised her head and nodded in understanding.  "I see.  No luck?"

He shook his head and sighed.  "No.  Foolish, I suppose.  It's just that…I found that stupid book downstairs in the library.  It practically jumped off the shelf and hit me on the head…seemed like a sign.  I know…stupid, but…damn it…I never got to say goodbye.  One minute he was there and the next…"  He shrugged.  "The spell said it needed to be performed in the waning minutes of the old year in a place where the person you wanted to contact had lived…so I just figured…why not give it a try?  But it was just a waste of time…nothing happened…nothing at all.  He's really gone for good this time."

Molly slid her arm around Remus and hugged him tightly.  "I'm sorry, Remus.  I know it's been hard on you to lose your friend."

Remus hugged her back gratefully.  "I lost him once before, you know.  Thought I'd never really known him at all.  Then he returned and I felt…well…everything seemed right again.  I never thought…it never occurred to me that he'd be gone again so soon.  I just wanted to be able to say a proper goodbye."

Molly sighed and rubbed Remus' back comfortingly.  "I'm sure that wherever he is, Sirius knows that we miss him, and that we wish him well, and he wouldn't want you to be here moping over him.  You know he wouldn't.  He'd want you to look to the New Year…not back at the old."

Remus drew back and smiled sadly down at her.  "I'm sure you're right.  He's probably living it up in the lap of luxury right now and looking down on us with a big smile on his face and a pretty girl on each arm."

She nodded and smiled at the image.  "No doubt.  Now why don't you come downstairs and have a nice glass of champagne with Arthur and me.  It'll make you feel much better."

Just then the clock on the mantle began to chime the witching hour.  Both of them turned and looked at it and smiled.  Then Molly reached up on tiptoes and kissed Remus on the cheek.  "Happy New Year, Remus," she said softly.  "Let's just pray that this year sees an end to all this pain and sorrow for all of us."

Remus took a deep breath and smiled down at her.  "Happy New Year…yes…I hope it is."

The two of them turned together and quietly left the room.  As their footsteps faded into the distance the clock stuck the final chime and the air by the fire thickened and sparkled gently and swirled red sparks up the chimney and off into the cold sharp darkness of the night sky.


	12. Time Flows Ever Onward

**Challenge # 19:  New Year's Eve Challenge.  Please include: 1) a spell or potion that has not worked as intended, 2) alcoholic beverage of some type, 3) a kiss at midnight…of course.**

Title: Time Flows Ever Onward

Rating: PG

Pairing: MM/SS

Author's Note:  While not officially a part of my ongoing "duel" with the talented "bleodswean" on LiveJournal, this piece was inspired by her desire to have me just go write more of this pairing while waiting for her response to one of my official pieces. :)  So I did, incorporating it into this challenge.

**"Time Flows Ever Onward"**

Severus Snape entered his quarters just before midnight with a vial of potion in his hand and a black scowl on his face.  The room was warm and inviting with the faint strains of music in the air and a silver bucket containing a bottle of wine sitting next to two crystal goblets on a table by the fire just awaiting his presence to complete the setting.

Minerva McGonagall rose from her chair by the fire with a nervous expression on her face and turned to confront her obviously troubled lover.  Her heart beat madly from worry at the look on his face.  Confrontation seemed the right word indeed…unfortunately.

She licked her lips nervously and then decided to brave his ire.  Nodding towards the vial clutched tightly in his hand she asked, "Is that the potion, Severus?"

He glared at her and thrust the vial roughly into her hands.  "Yes, of course it is.  I promised that I'd brew it for you, and I did.  I shouldn't have, though."  He turned his back on her abruptly and paced over and stood looking down into the dancing flames as she held the vial awkwardly and simply stared at his stiff back.

"Take it at your own risk.  I found my attention wandering so often during its creation that I can't guarantee that it's properly made."  His voice was harsh and strained.

"I can't imagine you not brewing something correctly.  You never make mistakes with potions," she retorted as calmly as she could.

He turned and stared at her with a pained expression.  "I don't usually have so much emotionally invested in a potion, Minerva.  I…if you insist on taking it, you should do it somewhere else.  I don't want to see the results."

They stared wordlessly at each other for a few moments, then she looked down at the vial and spoke softly.  "I thought you'd be happy to brew this for me, Severus.  This certainly isn't the effect I expected when I suggested the idea.  I only wanted to do it for you."

That statement caused him to leave the fireplace in an instant and move to her side grabbing her roughly by the arms and forcing her to raise her face to his in surprise.  "For me?  No."  His frustration made his tone seem angry.  "It's not for me.  It's for you…only you.  You refuse to listen to me!  I've told you what I want but you do not believe me.  If I wanted to caress skin like untouched porcelain rather than the warm living skin of a woman then that's what I'd pursue, but I haven't…doesn't that mean anything to you?  Why must you doubt my word?  You have gotten it into your head that I don't want you…but some image of youth that you can't provide for me.  No matter how I've tried I simply cannot get you to see that that is not the truth.  So go ahead…take the youth potion if you wish…experience a few hours of illusion…if that's what you truly want.  I want no part of it."

She stared up at him in bewilderment.  "I don't understand…why…"

He tightened his grip until his fingers were digging painfully into her skin.  "Why?" he exclaimed intensely.  "Why would I want you to be the woman you are and not some ghost of the woman you were?"

He paused and glanced away from her trembling form for a moment and then looked back and captured her gaze once more with his burning eyes.  "Once when I was little more than a child I thought I'd fallen in love with my teacher.  I was wrong though…I didn't know what love was…couldn't possibly have known, yet through many years of pain and emotional turmoil I continued to feel so much for you that I couldn't ever express…or even admit to myself…and my feelings have continued to grow.  Time has forged our relationship, Minerva.  For all its ups and downs it has brought us to be the people we are today…to have the feelings that we do today.  I would not banish the years because they have made you the woman you are now…and I…I love that woman…no other.  Can't you understand that?"

Her eyes filled with tears at this honest declaration from his heart that she never thought to hear from his lips.  Though she would never have tried to beg such an admission from him…his offering of it was all that she'd ever wanted to hear.  Without another word, she dropped the vial unheeded on the floor and wrapped her arms tightly around him.  As the clock began to chime out the end of the old year, their lips met in anticipation of the new one as time marched on.


	13. Only a Bird in a Gilded Cage

**Challenge # 20  Song Lyric Challenge  There were three sets of  song lyrics.  This piece was based on set C from "Sleep's Dark and Silent Gate" by Jackson Browne.**

"Wishing I could fly away

Don't know where I'm going

Wishing I could hide

Oh God, this is some shape I'm in."

Title:  Only a Bird in a Gilded Cage

Rating: G

Author's Notes:  Sibyll Trelawney reflects on a very bitter truth.

**"Only A Bird In A Gilded Cage"**

Sibyll Trelawney stood at her window in the North Tower and stared unseeingly out into the cold dark night.  Tears streaked her face and a glass of sherry trembled in her unsteady hand.  Never had her thoughts been more in flux.  These last few months had been horrid…a nightmare to end all nightmares…but they had revealed a very important truth to her…she was not a teacher here…not a colleague of those around her…not a valuable asset to the school.  No.  She was here for one reason and one reason only…she was a prisoner in a pretty cage…kept in her tower like a princess of yore…safe from harm…safe from loss…safe from life.

When she'd gone to Albus Dumbledore all those years ago and tried to convince him that she would be perfect to teach Divination at Hogwarts, she'd succeeded more easily than her wildest dreams.  When she'd actually had a vision in his presence…made a stirring prophecy…even if she couldn't remember it…she'd been thrilled.  She'd proven her worth…or so she thought…but what she'd actually done was seal her doom.

She raised the glass of sherry to her lips and gulped down its contents rapidly, wishing that it would help at least a little to dull her pain.  With a gasp of breath as she finished swallowing she turned and grabbed the bottle from a nearby table and poured the few remaining drops into her glass.  Empty.  Now what was she to do?

She'd never felt so helpless.  How pitiful she'd become.  

Yes, she still had her job…well…at least she had part of her job.  It appeared that the Centaur from the Forbidden Forest was also going to be continuing with his teaching…which seemed to consist of nothing much more than rambling on about nothing in particular and talking in a calm misty voice about the stars in the heavens, she thought waspishly.

But now that she really knew why she was here…why Dumbledore had employed her in the first place and why he insisted that she remain here…it…hurt.  Yes, it was thrilling to have the vindication of having made a real and important prophecy, to finally be accorded the respect that she deserved and had waited for fruitlessly for so many years, but the results of that were so different than she might have hoped…so much less satisfying.  

With a small sigh she noted to herself that at least the mocking look in Minerva McGonagall's eyes was finally gone…that alone should count for quite a lot.  Miserable snotty prude that she was!  But it didn't…not really.  After all she'd always known in her heart that the jeering of her "colleagues" hadn't mattered.  They were all too mundane and dull witted to truly see what could be seen if only one would release one's mind from the usual confines and let it soar free.

Free…once more than her mind had been free….but now…that was all gone.  Dumbledore didn't believe in her…didn't believe in her ability to reach young minds…to nurture their souls…to set them on the path of true understanding and divining of the future.  It had all been a lie.  He'd only wanted to keep her under his thumb in case the Dark One wanted to make use of her prophecy.  To keep her to hand like an occasionally useful tool…or to keep her safely hidden like an important card that one needed to win the game.  

She sighed once more and turned back to the window and looked up at the stars.  Hogwarts had been her home for a long time…sixteen years.  She'd been terrified at the thought of having to leave it and grateful for the ability to stay…but now that she really knew the truth…that she couldn't leave for her own safety and the safety of others…there was nothing she wanted more than to escape from these walls and fly free.  How did she ever come to this?  


	14. Full Circle

**Challenge #21  The Time Turner Challenge…use one. :)  **

Title:  Full Circle

Rating: PG

Author's Note:  Severus Snape gets some unwelcome advice from an unsettling source.

**"Full Circle"**

Severus Snape stood outside a large stone building and rubbed his left arm thoughtfully.  His thoughts spun wildly around in his head and the breath in his throat caught on the sizable lump that seemed to have formed out of nothing.  He shifted his feet and brushed the lank hair from his eyes.  This was the right decision…the only option…it would work out okay.  What was he so nervous about?  Malfoy had assured him that it didn't hurt…well not much anyway…and what difference did a little pain mean anyway?

He'd finally belong…he'd be a part of things…going places…be needed…useful…respected.  He nodded his head firmly and dropped his arm to his side.  Yes.  This was the right decision.  

As he took a step forward towards the building and made to enter, a hooded shape detached itself from the surrounding shadows and stepped forward to block his path.  With a gasp, the teenager fumbled for his wand and threw himself backwards away from the menacing shape.

"Who are you?  What do you want?" he questioned as firmly as he could manage, inwardly cringing at the slight vibrato that could be heard in his voice.  "You'd better stay back or I'll curse you."

The dark figure stopped and stood very still.  It simply looked at him quietly and a low somehow slightly familiar voice said softly, "I'm not here to harm you, Severus.  I'm here to help you.  I'm here to warn you.  You're about to make the biggest mistake of your life."

Snape bristled and held his wand higher and tighter.  His eyes narrowed.  "What do you mean warn me?  How do you know what I'm about to do anyway?  Who are you?"

"Who I am doesn't matter.  I know what you're about to do.  And I know that you'll come to regret it.  I hope to be able to spare you a lifetime of pain by stopping this reckless choice.  Please, listen to me.  This isn't the answer for you.  Joining Voldemort's cause will only seal your doom."

Snape's mouth fell open and he stared openly at the hooded figure.  "How do you know about that?  I didn't tell anyone what I'd decided…that I was coming here today.  How do you know?"

The hood shook back and forth sadly.  "It doesn't matter…how I know.  I do."

Snape frowned and lowered his wand but didn't pocket it again.  "I've spent a lot of time thinking about this decision.  It wasn't made lightly.  This is the right place for me…the place where I'll fit in the best.  All my friends belong…they're all happy about it…they've suddenly got more money…fancy clothes…  Why shouldn't I have what my friends have?"

"Are they truly your friends, though…or do they only want to use you…to help themselves?"

The boy shrugged.  "Everyone uses everyone else…it's the way things work.  There's nothing wrong with that.  Yes…I'm sure they're my friends…the only ones I have.  They respect me…and my abilities.  No one else does…not ever.  They don't sneer at me…they accept me.   If they have a use for me that just means that I'm a valuable asset to them…and they'll respect me all the more if I can continue to prove my value.  If they can make use of what I can provide for them…so what?"

"What indeed," the voice whispered faintly.  "What will you do for them?  Do you even know what they want of you?"

Snape shook his head.  "It doesn't matter.  Whatever is necessary.  Voldemort is a great man.  He has a great vision.  Wizard kind will be better…stronger… with his guidance.  All we need is to convince the weak fools who constantly coddle the Muggles and hold us back.  I can help him to prove his worth…to prove that his way of doing things is the right way.  Under his guidance I'll be given greater freedom to work…without all the stupid rules and restrictions put on research by the old fools at the Ministry of Magic.  I can create potions that will help wizards…that will keep us strong and vital…"

As the boy warmed to his theme, the hooded figure stepped closer and his voice rose sharp and strong.  "No!  Under his guidance…all you'll create is death…and horror.  Voldemort doesn't care about the strength of wizard kind.  He only cares about himself and how much power and influence he can amass.  His grand vision is domination…not betterment.  He doesn't want to show Muggles and the Muggleborn our superiority.  He simply wants to exterminate them…to enslave them…and all the rest of wizard kind as well."

The voice dropped in volume as he saw the shock reflected in the young dark eyes.  "You'll be nothing more than a pawn…a tool…a slave who will grovel in the dirt and call him Master.  If you allow him to put that brand on your arm…your life will cease to be your own…you will belong to him body and soul for the rest of your life!  Is that what you truly want?  Think for yourself while you still have the chance.  That mark isn't a badge of belonging and fraternity…it's a symbol of ownership…nothing more."

The boy stepped back from the dark intense figure with his unwelcome words and shook his head.  "No.  You're just trying to confuse me!  Why should I listen to you?  I don't even know who you are.  I'm leaving."

As Severus stepped forward trying to go around the menacing figure, an arm shot out and a strong hand grabbed his arm in a viselike grip.  The young man raised his eyes in fear to the hood as the other hand of the figure pulled it back to reveal the face he saw in the mirror every morning of his life…yet it wasn't quite the same.  This face was lined and scarred with ancient eyes full of pain and suffering.

Horrified the boy gasped in confused fear.  "Who…who are you?" he whispered.

"I'm your conscience.  The one who knows that deep down inside you know that this is the wrong path for you to take.  For once in your life don't be driven by hatred and anger and bitterness at the unfairness of your life.  Don't let your contempt for those who have dragged you down cause you to lose yourself completely.  Listen to what you know is right…before its too late."

Suddenly the door in the building behind them opened and a couple of figures looked out into the darkness.  A young man with silvery blond hair called out to Snape.  "Severus?  Is that you?  Are you coming?  He's waiting to welcome you."

The dark figure put up his hood once more and moved away into the deeper shadows and watched as his younger self hesitated for a moment, staring into the shadows with confusion on his face…then slowly he turned and went to join the young men in the doorway.  With a perplexed frown he glanced back into the darkness and paused before entering.

"What's the problem?" questioned the blond boy trying to see anything in the darkness outside the lighted doorway.  "Changed your mind?  Afraid?" his tone was challenging…arrogant.

Snape stiffened and turned at the mocking tone.  "Of course not.  Let's get this over with, Lucius."

The blond nodded with a look of immense satisfaction on his face and putting an arm around the dark boy's shoulders drew him inside and the door closed…blocking out the light.

The hooded figure in black gave a shudder and bowed his head then slowly he reached up to his neck.  His shaking hand came away with a small golden hourglass in his palm.  With a sigh full of a lifetime of frustrated despair he began to turn the glass slowly and vanished from sight.


	15. Fantasy in a White Beard

**Challenge # 22:  First Person Weasley.  Any Weasley, any time…your Weasley must have an angry conversation with a non-Weasley and/or attempt a seduction of a Non-Weasley.**

Title:  "Fantasy in a White Beard"

Rating:  PG-13

First Person Weasley:  Molly

Fantasy in a White Beard 

I've always been attracted to powerful men.  Fortunately Arthur has always understood this and hasn't tried to squash my desires.  As long as I was…discreet…well, no one saw me come in here, I'm quite sure of that so that takes care of the discretion part of things…now on to the powerful man…

He's standing by the window looking out over his domain.  I love how the moonlight is glinting off his long white locks edging them with silver.  His hair has always been one of the biggest turn ons for me.  Arthur is so…bald now.  Of course, I'd never tell him that; it would only hurt his feelings…but oh…I simply can't wait to run my fingers through all that lovely snow white hair.

I slide quietly up behind him and slip my arms around his form, sliding my hands up his warm body to open his robe and run my fingers along the lean contours of his chest as I begin to stroke his beard and burrow my well rounded body into his back.

"Good evening, Albus," I whisper softly.  "Thank you for inviting me to come this evening."

His voice holds a lilt of laughter in its tone.  "Hello, Molly.  I'm so pleased that you took me up on my invitation."

He slips around in my embrace and cups my face in his strong hands.  Those supple fingers caress my cheeks softly as he bends to kiss my lips with gentle insistence, and I wriggle happily as his beard tickles my face and caresses the swell of my breasts.

How sweet his lips are upon mine.  How gently he undresses me.  How careful he is when he lays me down on the incredibly plush rug that rests before the warm fire of his office.  Nothing can be heard for long seductive moments except the crackling of the fire and the soft moans and sighs that we make as we take our pleasure of each other.  

After we've spent our initial desire, we simply lie together in front of the dying embers and softly caress and play gently with each other's bodies while new desires build and fantasies take flight.  My fingers twine endlessly through the soft white strands of his beard as I enjoy the feel of it against my flushed and naked skin.  Suddenly the mood is broken by a sharp knock at the door and my daughter's slightly panicky voice.

"Mum!  Why is the door locked?  You need to come.  Fred and George were experimenting again with their exploding wands and now Ron is covered from head to foot with some black tarry stuff, and we can't get it off.  He says it's beginning to burn and itch!"

I sigh and reluctantly raise my voice.  "All right, Ginny.  I'll be right there!"

"You'd better hurry or Ron's skin will be redder than his hair!"  Footsteps hurry away down the steps.

I turn to the wizard in my arms.  "I guess we'll have to cut this short for tonight."

Albus smiles and his eyes twinkle softly.  "I guess so…time was about up anyway…look."

I do, as I get up off the floor and reach for my robe.  My long lean lover begins to shrink and thicken slightly and all that lovely hair disappears once more to show me the man I truly love and who fortunately loves to play make-believe as much as I do.

Arthur rises from the floor as well and crosses over to the closet to get a robe of his own.  "We'd better see if Ron is okay."

A hard gleam settles in my eye.  "Yes…and then tend to Fred and George and their mischief once and for all."  After all, how often to I get intimate time with Albus Dumbledore anyway?

                               *********************************************************************************************

Okay…I know I cheated…as it was really two Weasleys…*irons fingers and looks sheepish*  Sorry…


	16. Easy Money

**Challenge # 22:  First Person Weasley.  Any Weasley, any time…your Weasley must have an angry conversation with a non-Weasley and/or attempt a seduction of a Non-Weasley.**

Title:  Easy Money

Rating:  PG

First Person Weasley:  Ron

**Easy Money**

"Don't be a fool, Ron.  Only an idiot would trust Malfoy!"

That's what Hermione said when I told her about my chance for some easy money.  Did I listen?  Nooooo……

Hermione really is the smartest person I've ever known.  I don't know why I always refuse to listen to her.  Stubborn, I suppose.  Certainly not listening to her hasn't done me any good.  I mean, here I am scrubbing this foul gunk out of the bottoms of Snape's cauldrons. I'm willing to bet he filled them with the most disgusting stuff he could find and then let 'em sit for days on the off chance that he could get me in trouble and then get to assign detention and have me…or me and Harry…whichever he could manage…clean them out for him.  That'd be something he'd do.  Worked, too.  

It's all Malfoy's fault, the nasty little git.  If I hadn't needed the money so bad…  I mean it seemed like easy money when out of the blue he bet me five Galleons that I wouldn't kiss a house elf.  Five Galleons!  Hey, those elves'll do anything.  I figured a few seconds of disgust was worth five Galleons, right?

So naturally I took the bet.  I figured that Dobby could help me out convincing one of the female elves to give me a kiss if necessary.  Then I had to talk Colin into coming along to take a picture because I know Malfoy isn't going to take my word for it, and I'm not kissing a house elf if I'm not going to get something out of it, right?  Right.

Well…so far so good, I thought.  Ha!  That'll show me.  Anyway.  Colin was willing to come…for a split of the earnings.  That kid is learning a thing or two unfortunately.  Okay…so we go down to the kitchen because if you want to find house elves that's the place to go.  Dobby is there and I ask him how I could get one of the female elves to kiss me.  He's delighted to help…of course…for a pair of socks!    Well, I figure what's a pair of socks.  I could probably get Mum to knit him a pair for free…or I could give him a pair of my own if I had to.  I'd already promised Colin a Galleon for his services as a photographer so I didn't want to lay out too much cash.

So Dobby comes through.  His friend Cyandi is willing to kiss me.  Says she's always wondered how humans kiss and is willing to take a chance to find out.  Take a chance?  Oh well…what do I care.  So I kiss her.  There's good reasons why humans don't kiss house elves!  Their tongues are as sharp as razor blades!  The inside of my mouth feels like it's been chopped to shreds!  I'm wondering if tongue of Weasley isn't one of the ingredients they were needing for dinner.  Fortunately Colin remembered to take the picture even though he was laughing his head off.  Well…I thought it was fortunate…but maybe not as things turned out.

Well, now my mouth is all bloody so I go back upstairs and into the boy's bathroom to try to clean it up.  Naturally I run into Harry who thinks the whole thing is hysterical.  I have to promise him I'll do his research for him on a paper he needs to do for Sprout so he won't tell Hermione or I'd never hear the end of it.  Although why he'd want me to do work for him, I don't know.  Once I get the bleeding in my mouth to stop, Colin has my picture.  Yes!  So it's off to collect my five Galleons from Malfoy.

I have to spend a half hour hanging around the dungeons praying that I don't run into Snape while I wait to see the little prat because naturally I don't know the password to the Slytherin common room, and I'm not too sure that I want to talk to him in front of an audience anyway.  I mean…more than the usual audience of tweedle dum and tweedle dee.

So I wait around and wait around.  Finally he comes out and I show him the picture.  He laughs himself silly naturally.  I figured that one.  Then he pockets the picture and asks me how much I'll pay him not to send it on to Rita Skeeter at the Daily Prophet!

Naturally I scream that he owes me money and to give my picture back!  He tosses a couple of Galleons at my feet…and then demands twice as much for the return of the picture.  I punch him in the nose.  He punches me back…which didn't do anything good for my sore mouth let me tell you.  We each draw our wands and fire off hexes at each other.  He manages to make my hair fall out.  I manage to turn Snape green.

***Sigh***  

So that's why I'm here cleaning out cauldrons for the foreseeable future.  Let's see…what has this bit of easy money actually cost?  I owe Dobby a pair of socks.  I owe Colin a Galleon.  I owe Harry some essay research for Herbology.  And I have to spend two hours every night for the next month cleaning out Snape's nastiest cauldrons.  Just to make things really fun…I saw Snape pocket the picture, which fell out of Malfoy's pocket when I hit him.

Yup…I really need to start listening to Hermione…..


	17. As the Hourglass Turns & Twists & Writhe...

Challenge # 23   Soap Opera Silliness     Pick your most ridiculous or overdone daytime serial cliché…or two or three…and adapt it to the world of Harry Potter.  The characters should be out of character and canon reality means nothing.  Give the silliness free rein. :) 

Title:  As the Hourglass Turns and Twists and Writhes and Contorts and…well you get the idea. ;)

Rating:  PG for perfectly god awful.

"As the Hourglass Turns and Twists and Writhes and Contorts…" 

The hapless Potions Master sighed despairingly and vowed to bury himself in his work and forget.  It wasn't easy.  Her face seemed to flash across his consciousness at least once every 37.6 seconds making it almost impossible to concentrate on anything else.  He had to forget about her, though.  He'd done what he could…she lived…nothing else mattered.   Another would take care of her now.  It wasn't fated to be his place.  A deep heart-breaking sigh rent the air.

Suddenly a sound at the door of his classroom made him look up and gasp.  She stood there framed artistically in the doorway and watched him with sad liquid eyes.  Her body trembled with the effort it must have taken to walk all the way down here from her sick bed.  Why had she come?  Did he dare to hope she'd come for him?

As she swayed and clutched at the doorframe, he came to his senses and crossed the classroom in a heartbeat to enfold her slender body gently within his arms and keep her from falling to her knees on the cold hard stones.

"Minerva, what are you doing here?  You should still be in bed.  You're not fully recovered," he chided her roughly, covering his concern.

She clutched at him and looked up into the depths of his fathomless eyes.  "I had to come.  I know what you did for me.  It was obvious that you weren't going to come to me so you left me no choice but to get out of my warm comfortable bed and drag my weary body through all those long drafty corridors in order to come down here and find you."

Swiftly he swung her fragile body up into his arms and carried her through his classroom and into his office where he sat her down carefully on the large black conveniently located couch and knelt in front of her.

She reached out and touched his cheek lovingly.  "How did you know, Severus?  How did you know that I was being poisoned instead of simply dying from some nameless wasting disease that would cause me to linger on and on, and then finally expire while looking as lovely as ever, as everyone else assumed?  Even Poppy was sure that my illness was perfectly natural."

Gently he stroked her hand and smiled tenderly.  "That's because Poppy is incompetent.  I've learned just recently that her degree was granted by the same people who publish the QuikSpell courses for the ever gullible squibs.  She wouldn't know a genuine fatal illness if it jumped up and bit her on the butt."

She sighed voluptuously.  "Oh, Severus…how can I ever repay you?"

"Having you safe and healthy is payment enough for me.  I just toil away down here in the darkness never getting any gratitude or respect for what I do…surely you know that by now."

"It's true that no one appreciates you properly…but I do…I always will…I promise…I love you.  Only you.  Really…forever."

His heart thudded loudly beneath his impeccably tailored robes.  "What about Albus?"

She wrinkled her nose adorably.  "What about him?  He doesn't mean anything to me.  Our fling was over years ago.  The only thing that holds us together at all is our son…but he was given away at birth to keep him safe.  The house elves kept insisting on taking him from his cradle and exchanging him for one of their own.  The ears kept giving it away of course, but it was annoying."

Snape entwined his fingers in her long silky hair and pulled her face closer to his.  "Then…you aren't in love with Albus after all?" he asked breathlessly.

"No," she whispered softly.  Her moist luscious lips a mere breath away from his own.  "I love you…only you…always you.   Didn't I already say that?"

As he pulled her soft pliant body against his strong manly chest and enfolded her within his embrace, the door to the office was flung open and an infuriated Filch stood there puffed up like a cat whose tail had been bitten by the neighbor's dog.

"So this is how you betray me?" he raged indignantly.  

Minerva gasped and pulled back from Snape's arms as the Potions Master went very pale.  Both of them began to stutter at the same moment and exclaimed together. "Argus!  I can explain…"


	18. An Evening's Toil

Challenge # 24   Begin the story with a certain sentence and end with a certain sentence.  In between, write anything your heart desires.

Title:  An Evening's Toil

Rating:  PG

"An Evening's Toil

Darkness came swiftly that evening, thanks to the heavy clouds that presented a cold crystalline gift to Hogwarts and the nearby village of Hogsmeade.

It was easier to perform this task under the cover of darkness.  Though the snow and the hard packed frozen ground would make it more difficult physically.  Most of the time he really didn't miss not having magic.  There had been many many years of his life when he'd been torn up with the envy of all those around him who wielded magic so effortlessly for even the simplest of tasks while he had to toil to do anything and was snickered at behind their talented fingers for his trouble.

That truly hadn't been the case for a long time now.  He'd made his peace with his lot in life.  Well…at least he tried to.  There had been the temptation of the Quikspell course, but he really hadn't expected anything and almost hadn't been disappointed when he'd turned out to have gotten what he'd thought he would out of the experience.  It had been embarrassing though to have had it uncovered by those nosy little prats.  Oh well…water under the bridge now.

He stepped out into the cold damp night and hefted his sad little bundle in his arms.  Mrs. Norris mewed pitifully as she wove her way around his legs in a dance of worry and regret.  He really should insist that she remain behind, but he didn't have the heart.  It was her sorrow more than his after all.  She had a right to come and watch and grieve.

Together man and cat trudged off through the snow towards the shelter of the edge of the Forbidden Forest.  Under the trees where the snow wouldn't be as deep would be the best place, though he'd have to dig around the tree roots.  Well, he knew a small clearing that was still pretty near to the edge of the forest.  If they didn't linger too long they should be all right to do it there.  He had once before.

Once they reached the spot he was aiming for.  He set his lantern down on a nearby stump and began his preparations.  First scraping off the snow from a small patch of ground then lighting a small fire to thaw the earth and allow him to dig a hole to the proper depth.  There'd be no point in doing this if others were simply to undo his careful work after he wasn't there to guard it any more.

He worked steadily in the cold moist air while his companion sat nearby and watched over his labors with glittering eyes that saw all and revealed so little.

Finally he was ready.  The earth was opened to receive their precious treasure.  He turned and knelt down and picked up the limp little bundle that was carefully wrapped in a soft blanket taken from the storerooms at the castle.  Somehow this one felt a Hufflepuff to him so he'd chosen a nice yellow coloured one in its honour.  Slowly he peeled back the edge of the cloth to expose the small whiskered face one last time as Mrs. Norris said a final goodbye to the son who'd never roam the castle at her side.

Once she was done, he carefully re-wrapped the cold little body and consigned it to the earth.  Then he filled up the hole over its resting place and tamped it down as firmly as he could.  He replaced as much of the snow as he could, too.  Hoping that if the little grave wasn't disturbed again this night that it never would be.

With a weary sigh he pulled his stiff body to his feet and stretched out the muscles that were numb with the creeping chill of the winter's night.  Slowly he gathered his things and taking up his lantern the two intruders into the silent haven of the forest took their leave.  

When he stepped out from beneath the sheltering canopy of the trees, he realized that the storm had shed its last white tears on the grounds of the castle and passed on its way.  He looked up and saw the moon shining its pale light down onto the glittering landscape.  A sound from above brought his eyes up to meet those of an owl lodged comfortably in the branches over his head.

It appeared that his evening's task hadn't passed unremarked by the denizens of the forest after all.  Well that was fine with him.  He pulled his cloak closer around his quaking form in the cold as he looked up into the bright yellow eyes.  These eyes didn't bother him; they weren't the hard judging eyes that watched most every move he made, after all.  They wouldn't tell anyone how he'd spent his evening.  Wouldn't mock his caring for something helpless and innocent.  Wouldn't ruin his reputation as a cold nasty curmudgeon.  His secret was safe here.

Death was a cold hard fact of life, but when it came to those who never had the chance to live, even such as he was saddened by its grasp.  **He shivered as he watched the owl take flight, wondering if he would ever be warm again.**


	19. Trevor's Magical Wart Remover

Challenge #  26   Dear Diary…  One or more characters have to write about something in their diary.  First person expository writing on any subject that comes to mind.

Title:  "Trevor's Magical Wart Remover"

Rating:  PG

Author's Notes:  Warning of character death. ;)  * sob *

"Trevor's Magical Wart Remover" 

  ************************

*Neville's Journal* 

I know this is probably going to be hard to read what with all the tearstains and all, but I had to write it anyway.  Like a memorial or something, I guess…you see Trevor is dead.  It was awful!  I goofed so badly today.  I don't even want to think about it, but I have to because I killed my best friend…well maybe not my best friend…well, if not him then who?  Maybe Hermione, she's always so nice to me.  Like today in Potions after…after…it happened.  She always tries to make me feel better when I screw up.

I was making up a wart remover potion along with the rest of the class.  I was so proud of myself.  I hadn't messed up.  Not once.  I was thinking that maybe I'd even send Gran an owl to let her know how good I'd done for a change when…it happened.

I didn't stop to think that it could be a problem when I'd let Trevor hop into my pocket before class.  Now I wish I'd done anything else, but it's too late.  He's gone forever now…

Just as I was adding the last ingredient to the potion…essence of toad extract…Trevor must've smelled it, or something because he hopped right out of my pocket and leaped right into the cauldron!  I tried to grab him, but I was too slow.  Once he was in there he just sort of…dissolved.  It was awful.

Snape told me it was the best batch of wart removing potion he's ever seen anyone produce.  The greasy git!  I could see the malice gleaming in his eyes.  He knew what happened!  He knew.

What am I going to do now?  I've had Trevor ever since I came to Hogwarts.  It already feels so lonely without him…

  *************************

*Harry's Letter to Lupin* 

Snape killed Neville's pet today in class.  He scared poor Trevor so that the silly toad jumped right into Neville's' cauldron.  The man's a menace!  If he'll stoop to murdering defenseless animals who knows what else he'll do?  Isn't there any way to convince Dumbledore to fire him?   Just thought you'd want to know before you take the next batch of Wolfsbane potion from him.  I've been hoping that there's someone else who could make that for you because I sure wouldn't trust Snape if I were you.  I never will.

  *************************

*Snape's Letter to Mrs. Longbottom* 

Dear Mrs. Longbottom,

As per our agreement, I am keeping you apprised of your grandson's progress in my class.  While you know that I've had grave reservations about his ability to produce competent material in Potions class, I must admit that today he outdid himself.  He actually produced an above standard potion.  In fact it far exceeded the rather dismal standard set by the rest of the class.  It has made me think that perhaps there is now at least some small chance that he will be able to pull his work up to a passing grade before the end of the term after all.

                                                  Yours respectfully,

                                                                Severus Snape

Postscript:  Unfortunately your grandson was forced to sacrifice his familiar in the creation of today's potion and will probably now require a replacement.

  **************************

*Hermione's Diary* 

Poor Neville had a horrible accident in potions class today.  I know, I know, what else is new, but this time it wasn't his fault.  Well, maybe it was a little since he really should've know better than to bring Trevor to class in the first place, but really how was he to know what would happen?

Trevor hopped right out of Neville's pocket when Neville was adding the essence of toad extract and just hopped right into the cauldron!  I thought poor Neville was going to cry right there in front of everyone and Professor Snape, but somehow he managed to hold himself together.  He's really gotten much better with self-control.

Professor Snape actually handled things like a real human being for once…well sort of anyway.  At least he didn't punish Neville.  In fact he praised his potion to the entire class.  It did turn out rather well…much better than anyone else's.  Maybe a live toad is what's really needed to make that potion work properly instead of the bottled extract.  I mentioned that to Professor Snape, and he actually didn't snap at me like he usually does.

Professor Snape let me take it to Madam Pomfrey after class was over.  She was delighted with it.  In fact she offered to name the improved potion after Trevor!  I told Neville what she said…he appreciated the gesture, I'm sure.


	20. Journaling

Challenge #  26   Dear Diary…  One or more characters have to write about something in their diary.  First person expository writing on any subject that comes to mind.

Title: "Journaling"

Rating: PG

"Journaling"

Dumbledore 

Well, I really tossed a beehive into the herd today.  I've asked the staff to begin keeping a chronicle of their hours.  Not merely the tedious details of their days, but a true accounting of their thoughts as they move through their lives.  I think that everyone will benefit from the introspective look into themselves that such a journal can bring.  In times of trouble we all need perspective on our lives.  Not to mention how much fun we can get out of hearing the thoughts of our fellow colleagues.  I wonder who'll crack first and tell me exactly what they think of this idea…my money's on Severus…with Minerva coming up on the outside.

Trelawney 

Albus had a perfectly marvelous idea at staff meeting today.  What an imaginative man.  Always thinking.  He wants the staff to begin to keep journals of our days.  Not just details of the day to day drudgery, but true journals where we let our minds and hearts soar free and then share the results of our astral travels with our fellow voyagers at our weekly gatherings.  He feels that it will enable us to communicate more effectively as a group if we do this.  How truly splendid!

I've been trying to get him to do something like this for years!  He's finally seen the light.  Now that so much evil has crawled back into the fabric of our world, it's time that we all united under one banner and faced the future with courage and fortitude.  Ah…just the thought of it sends chills down my spine.  

And of course, there'll be a leadership role in all this for me since I and I alone am in the unique position to be able to divine exactly what the future holds for everyone.  Oh…it'll be such fun.  I must begin at once and make up a chart for everyone on the staff.  They'll all be so thrilled when I present them to them at the next staff meeting.  It's so comforting to be fully prepared for the horrors that lurk along our paths after all.  I wonder who'll be the first to die?

Flitwick 

Oh dear.  I don't mean to be critical of the Headmaster, but he does have some rather odd notions at times.  Why does he think we need to keep journals of our thoughts?  Not that I object, of course, I've always kept a journal of my research notions and observations, but I never let it get overly personal.  If you want to learn anything from such an exercise you need to be as impersonal as possible after all.  Journals are for analyzing the thoughts not socialization.  That's what the staff room is for.  Well…unless Severus is there, of course.  That man can clear a room faster than anyone I've ever met.

Oh well, if the Headmaster thinks it will be helpful, then of course, I'll go along with it.  

Hmm…where to begin.  Today is Tuesday.  It's not raining, which is rather remarkable for a Tuesday, actually.  I've noticed that early in the week….

McGonagall 

If Albus thinks that I'm going to set down my intimate thoughts in writing and then share them with the world, he can think again.  I saw the dreamy excited look in Sibyll's eyes when he suggested this foolish exercise!  The last thing I need is to be subjected to any more of her fortune telling drivel.  It was bad enough when she insisted on doing everyone's charts.  Oh good heavens.  You don't suppose that she'll take this as another opportunity to beat that old horse again do you?  

Snape 

Dumbledore has finally lost it.  I'd suspect the use of Polyjuice, but I can't really make myself believe that any impostor would do anything so outrageously ridiculous.  No.  It must be him.  He's in another one of his Hufflepuff touchy feely moods.  

All right.  If he wants my innermost thoughts.  He'll have them.

Restrained myself from killing Potter and Weasley today with great difficulty.  Will most likely do the same tomorrow.  Who knows?  Might snap under the strain and not quite manage to hold myself back three days in a row.  Perhaps the end of the week will be a good time for a funeral.  Should probably tell Filch to go and price coffins.


	21. Turn, Turn, Turn

Challenge #  26   Dear Diary…  One or more characters have to write about something in their diary.  First person expository writing on any subject that comes to mind.

Title: Turn, Turn, Turn

Rating:  G

Character:  Remus Lupin

"Turn, Turn, Turn"

This is likely to be the last entry I write in this thing.  Of course, I thought that last month, too and I managed to pull one more month out of life, but it just doesn't feel right this time so I don't expect it to happen again.  I broke two ribs and a thigh bone in the last transformation, and they've never really healed right.  It's likely to be worse this time.  My body's just plain worn out.  It had to happen sooner or later.  There's only so much stress and strain a human being can take, and despite what some people may think…I never stopped being human.

Snape tried to push the Wolfsbane potion on me again today.  I know he means well, but he just doesn't understand.  The Wolfsbane potion isn't really for me…it's for everyone else.  So I can keep enough control of my mind not to hurt anyone, but a tired old wolf like me isn't going to be a threat any longer.  The locks are far stronger than I am now.

Frankly, I just don't want to take the stuff.  It tastes absolutely hideous, and I really don't want that to be the last taste in my mouth.  When I don't take the potion, reality fades away from me during the change.  I lose myself in the twists and turns that my body takes in becoming other than what's natural for it.  My mind slips away, and I don't remember the agony and the despair and the loneliness.  When I take that horrible draught…I remember it all…every bone dissolving moment, and I don't want that pain anymore.  Oblivion is what I crave now.

The air smells really sweet this evening, fresh and clean.  I always loved that deepest blue color that the sky gets as daylight fades and the stars begin to appear.  It's such a peaceful feeling that always comes over me when I see it.  Even on nights when I know that the stars won't be the lead players in the celestial show.

I'll miss the feeling of the sunshine, though.  The way the warmth can seep into your body and make movement possible again without pain and stiffness.  I'll miss the smells and the sounds, too.  Heck, according to Nick, I'll probably miss eating also.   I suppose I'll miss a lot of things but nothing lasts forever and I don't really think I'd want it to.  

To anyone who'll be reading this after I'm gone, I don't want you to think that I have nothing but regrets because nothing could be further from the truth.  Sure I'll miss a lot of the wonderful things about life, but in many ways, I'll be quite content to leave it all behind me.

I'm really happy at the thought that I'll be able to see my friends again.  I've missed them more than I ever wanted to admit…even to myself.  Life has been full of these huge empty places for such a long time, and I'm really looking forward to filling them up again.  These last years, I've felt as if I must've out lived my time anyway.  The Marauders will finally be together again…and it's long past time that we were.

I'm really very tired.  Tired of the effort it takes to keep going and tired of all the pain.  When you're young, it's manageable, but the last year of transformations have frankly been hell, and I just want it to be done.  I'm looking forward to the rest.

It's really been an interesting life, all in all, and I can't complain too much.  I lived through some exciting and mind-boggling times…horrible beyond words sometimes…but also full of wonders and joy.  Yup…it's time to move on…to see what other adventures awaits…to everything there is a season...and it's finally mine.


	22. Hoping

**Challenge # 27:  Pastfic**    **The story must take place before Harry comes to school at Hogwarts and must incorporate one of five little scenarios.  This story used #2  Someone falls in love with someone they shouldn't…**

Title:  Hoping

Rating: PG

Characters:  Snape and McGonagall  

Author's note:  Most of these pieces stand alone.  However, this one is followed closely by the next one…"Against Hope".

**"Hoping"**

Severus Snape paused with a book in his hand and looked around the empty classroom.  Who was he kidding here?  A teacher?  He didn't have the faintest idea how to run a classroom…how to force feed the foolish information that most of them hadn't the slightest interest in learning.  This was going to be a disaster.

He glowered darkly and tossed the book down onto the polished surface of the desk.  Not that he had the slightest choice in the matter.  His new jailer had shown him down here and put him to work.  He'd made his choice…now he was going to have to find a way to live with it.

Suddenly he heard a footstep scrape against the stones by his door.  He raised his head, but he didn't quite dare to turn just in case it really was the person he'd been waiting for…the one he both wanted and dreaded to see so very much.

"Hello, Severus.  Welcome back," said a familiar and welcome voice.

He closed his eyes briefly and schooled his face into a haughty sneer before he turned to face her.  "Professor McGonagall.  Surprised to see me here?"  He raised an eyebrow and stared at her.  She hadn't changed a bit.

She smiled and shook her head.  "No.  Albus told me that you were here.  Congratulations on becoming the new Potions master.  I'm sure that you'll do well in the position."

"Did Albus tell you how I happened to get this job?"  His voice was stiff and mocking.

She nodded and her face saddened slightly.  "Yes, he did."

"Come to gloat…to tell me that you told me so."

"You know I'd never do that," she said softly.  Her eyes were full of compassion.

He suddenly found that he couldn't stand to look into them for another moment and turned away to fiddle uselessly with the pile of books on the desk.  "No.  Of course, you wouldn't."  His voice had lost its mocking edge and was now simply cool and almost toneless.  "You'd have every right to, though.  You warned me.  I should've listened to you.  I just wasn't in any mood to listen to anything you had to tell me when we last saw each other."

She smiled sadly.  "I know.  You had to make your own mistakes, Severus.  As much as I hoped to spare you the pain of this one, I know that as well as anyone.  It's part of growing up."

"Yes.  Growing up."  He turned back to face her once more.  "And have I grown up enough for you to see me as an adult now…Minerva?"

She shivered as he spoke her name, but didn't answer him.

He stepped closer.  "Has time passed leveled the playing field sufficiently yet?"

She froze and he could see her entire body stiffening up before she answered in a quiet voice.  "Time has continued for both of us, Severus.  The playing field will never be that level.  I can't stop time any more than you could speed it up…and you shouldn't want to."

"We're colleagues now.  No longer teacher and student," he said.  He almost held his breath waiting to see how she'd respond.  Hoping…

A flicker of longing darted through her eyes, but she turned away and rested a hand on the frame of the door.  "It doesn't matter.  I am still older than your mother.  I had hoped…." Her voice trailed off.

"That my feelings had changed?" he exclaimed angrily.

"That mine had," she whispered softly under her breath, squeezing back her sudden tears.

Not having heard her response, he stalked across the floor until he stood behind her so closely that she could feel the brush of his robes against her back and the sweep of his hair against her cheek as he whispered harshly in her ear without actually touching her,  "Well…hope no more…they have.  You have no reason to fear that I will embarrass you by any sort of sentimental feelings of an inappropriate nature.  As I said…we're colleagues now…nothing more…nothing less.  Go back to your domain in the sky Minerva, and let me settle into the darkness here below.  You mean nothing to me now, I assure you."

She drew a sharp breath at his words and nodded shortly.  "I'm sorry to have disturbed you then," she whispered softly.

He drew back from her.  "Nothing you do or say disturbs me.  Good day, Minerva."

Without another word, she left the room and he could hear her footsteps moving swiftly up the corridor and away from him.

Slowly he returned to his unpacking with slightly trembling hands.  "Liar," he whispered quietly to the empty room.


	23. Against Hope

**Challenge # 27:  Pastfic**    **The story must take place before Harry comes to school at Hogwarts and must incorporate one of five little scenarios.  This story used #2  Someone falls in love with someone they shouldn't…**

Title:  Against Hope

Rating: PG

Characters:  Snape and McGonagall

Author's Note:  This piece immediately follows my previous chapter piece, "Hoping".  Unlike most of the 30 Minute pieces in this collection, these two form a complete whole together.

Against Hope 

Minerva leaned back against the door of her bedroom and closed her eyes.  Her confrontation with Severus had left her trembling.  Seeing him again had been harder than she'd thought it would be.  It still hurt to think about what he'd gone through after leaving school.  Would he have done what he did if she hadn't rejected him?  But what other choice had she had?  

No.  Most likely that had had no effect on his choices at all.  Her influence wasn't likely to have been that powerful in his life.  Nowhere near as powerful as his had been on her.  His feet were already firmly planted on that dark path, others had tried to dissuade him without success, but no doubt her rejection hadn't helped.

She could still remember quite vividly awakening to find him seated on the side of her bed in the moonlight.  His hand caressing her hair.  As she'd sat up in confusion, she could still feel his hand on her bare shoulder as he pulled her gently against him and embraced her.  His lips descending onto hers, and Merlin help her, she'd responded!

It had seemed so like the dream that she'd been immersed in when his touch had drawn her back to reality that for a few wonderful moments she'd been a most willing participant.

When reality hit, and she pulled away…he'd been hurt…but what choice had she had?  He just didn't understand…  He was her student!  Her student.

"Mr. Snape!  What do you think you're doing?"

"Kissing you…and you were enjoying it," he'd protested.

"I was asleep!  I didn't realize that this was real.  That a student would have the temerity to invade the bedroom of a teacher!"

"Please, don't get upset!  I wouldn't ever hurt you.  You've got to know that.  It was just a graduation dare…to go and bring back a token…to show that you'd been there."

"And how were you to display a kiss for your friends, Mr. Snape!"

"No…I wasn't…the kiss was for me!  I chose your room because I wanted to see you…I've wanted it for a long time…you had to know that…I just had to come…and when I did…when I saw you, I had to touch you…I couldn't help it.  You kissed me back!" his voice was accusing.  "You must've enjoyed it!"  He'd reached for her again with an edge of desperation in his voice as he'd seized her shoulders and pulled her towards him once more.

Oh, how hard it had been to pull back…to stop him and send him away.  She never did understand why.  What made him so different?  Many boys and young men had developed crushes on her throughout her fairly long tenure as a teacher.  Not very many in awhile, she conceded.  Since after all, she wasn't exactly the stuff that adolescent dreams were made of anymore…which is one reason that had made his attraction so surprising.  For some unfathomable reason…she had been a dream for him…one she so wanted to share but simply couldn't.

He'd been so angry and hurt when she'd sent him away with nothing but a handful of hairpins from her dresser.  Although perhaps a little grateful that she hadn't reported the incident…he'd still been upset that she'd rejected him…still protested that he was an adult…and that was all that should matter.  It was the only time he'd actually admitted his feelings.  He'd always been such a secretive and cautious young man.  He'd never been one to be open and honest about how he truly felt…to show what could be interpreted as a weakness.  But he'd dared to that night…and she'd shut him down.  No wonder he looked back on that incident with bitterness.  Was quick to tell her that she no longer held any fascination for him.

Now he was here again.  A teacher…a colleague.  He'd sit at the same table, walk the same halls, participate in staff meetings, and glare angrily at her with his beautiful eyes and somehow she'd have to learn to live with it and go on…  How would she find the strength?

If he appeared again in the moonlight of her bedroom…would she still send him away?  Sadly she knew she'd never find out.


	24. Misdirection

Challenge #28  First Lines      Take the first line from any random chapter of any Harry Potter book, copy it down, and then just start typing.

Title: Misdirection

Rating: PG

Using the first line of Chapter Seven of Book One

"Misdirection" 

The door swung open at once.  A tall, black-haired witch in emerald green robes stood there…and boy, did she look furious.

Severus Snape looked up at his "visitor" and schooled his features into a noncommittal mask.  "Ah…here we go."  He thought with amusement.

"Something I can do for you, Minerva?" he asked innocently.  

The livid witch stalked across the room to plant her hands squarely on his desk and stare down into his face.   Every stiff line of her body screamed her anger.  "You know exactly why I'm here, you miserable pusillanimous cheat!"

Snape raised an eyebrow and leaned nonchalantly back in his chair.  "Really, such language.  Frankly I'm appalled.  That a professor of your caliber should so malign a fellow…"

"Cut the crap, Severus," she cut him off angrily.  "You took three hundred points from Gryffindor this morning…three hundred!  Two hundred from Mr. Potter alone simply because he didn't produce a potion that was up to whatever ridiculous special standard you set for him compared to the rest of the class.  This is beyond the bounds of fairness or professorial discretion!  Just because your Quidditch team couldn't win the points fairly on the Quidditch pitch…you think that you can make up for it by taking points away from Gryffindor for trumped up indiscretions, but I won't stand for it!  All of the rest of us on the staff adhere to simple standards of fairness in relation to taking point deductions from students, and it's about time that you did as well."

Abruptly, he stood up and moved around the desk to stand over her with a dark glower on his features.  "Is that so?  So now you're impugning my fairness, are you?  What gives you the right to dictate terms to me, Minerva?"

She straightened up and glared back.  "My position as Deputy Headmistress of this school gives me all the authority I need."

"Really?" his voice dropped and caressed her softly.  He took a step closer and leaned towards her forcing her to step back to maintain a modicum of distance between them.  "What makes you so sure that you know my motivation here?"

He took another step forward and she took another step back.  "Isn't it just possible that Mr. Potter merited the point deductions I took from him this morning?  He may behave like a little angel in your class, but I assure you that he is insolence personified in mine."

Suddenly she looked a trifle nervous as he kept moving forward slowly forcing her back bit by bit.  However, she wasn't about to back down no matter what he did…so, she raised her chin and shot back, "He'd have to stand up in front of the entire class and threaten you before he'd merit the deduction of two hundred points…and what about the other hundred points…all given for foolish or downright spurious reasons."

He smiled slyly and took yet another step forward and as McGonagall stepped back she was abruptly jarred by finding her back now firmly pressed to the classroom wall.  "So you say…well, perhaps you're right, Minerva," he purred softly.  "Perhaps it wasn't Potter that I wanted to get to at all…perhaps it was his Head of House."

The suddenly nervous witch swallowed the hard lump that had formed in her throat as he lowered his face even closer to hers, his lips mere inches from her own.  "Perhaps I have another agenda all together," he whispered in a soft seductive voice as he lifted a hand and trailed his fingertips down the side of her face.  

She'd gone very still and her eyes had widened to twice their normal size.  He could feel her tremble slightly under his touch.  There was a pause while they both stood frozen each waiting for the other to make the next move.

Suddenly Snape straightened up and moved away.  "Then again…perhaps not," he added in a mocking tone.

McGonagall gave a gasp and straightened up sharply.  "You haven't heard the last of this, Severus," she choked out painfully while her heart still continued to pound furiously.  She whirled around and fled from the room as quickly as she could.

Snape watched her go with a smirk on his lips as he murmured, "Bet I have.  Well, that was fun…I wondered how many points I'd have to deduct before she'd crack…now I know.  Useful information for the future."  Then with a smile of satisfaction, he returned to his desk and the work that had been so entertainingly interrupted.


	25. March Second

Challenge #28  First Lines      Take the first line from any random chapter of any Harry Potter book, copy it down, and then just start typing.

Title:  March Second

Rating: PG

Using the first line of Chapter Thirty-Two of "Order of the Phoenix"

Main character:  Minerva McGonagall

**"March Second"**

"I'm not going…I don't need the hospital wing…I don't want…"  Her voice sounded so young and desperate to her ears.  Everything was murky…seen through a haze of pain and blood.

A sharp rather cold voice spoke briskly.   "You're bleeding too much, my lady.  You have to go to hospital.  Stop being so unreasonable."

"No…no…not again…please.  It has to be different this time.  It has to be."

The same voice cut into her pleading once more.  "It will be different if you continue to act this way!  You'll be dead along with the babe.  It's too late…too late…"

Minerva's eyes snapped open and she gasped.  Her whole body was shaking with the vivid nature of the dream…the memory.  Too late.  Yes, it was always too late.

Stiffly she brought a hand up to her cheek and wiped away the tears.  You'd think that half a century would be enough time to dull the pain…to still the nightmares, but apparently it wasn't.

With a ragged breath, she forced herself to sit up and get out of bed.  Crossing to the window she drew open the drapes and leaned her aching head against the glass.  The day outside was gray with roiling dark clouds that promised rain scudding past overhead.  March second.  It always rained.  Fitting, yet still strange that there was never any sunshine on this day, at least not within her memory.

She'd better get dressed and go.  Get it over with as soon as possible.  There was probably no real reason to make this trip year after year yet somehow it always made her feel better to actually be there.  To touch the granite with her hands…to sit on the cold ground…to remember.  Somehow it made it easier to forget the rest of the year.

As she dressed, it occurred to her that she was always alone on these little trips of remembrance.  Not once in fifty years had she seen Ian there.  A blessing in its own way.  He probably doesn't even mark the day.  It was just one more failure to him, who's had successes since, but for her…it was the end…and the beginning.  In a strange perverted way, she should look back on this day as a release.  The day that allowed her to break the bonds of her servitude.  That gave her her freedom…but the price was far too high.  She'd have willingly remained a slave if the outcome could have been different.

It was early as she descended the stairs and crossed the vestibule, but the low murmur of voices could be heard through the doorway into the Great Hall.  Breakfast was underway.  Her stomach growled slightly at the tempting aromas that wafted her way, but a wave of nausea drove all the allure away in an instant.  She couldn't even think of eating…not now…later perhaps.

As she placed a hand on the door, a low voice called her back.  "Skipping out on breakfast, Minerva?"

With a twinge of frustration, she turned around and nodded to Severus Snape as he stood behind her with his head cocked to the side in slight curiosity.  "I have an early morning engagement, Severus.  I'll eat later."  Her cold tone offered no more information and warned against asking for any.

Not that that stopped him.  "Hmm.  How unlike you to go out without your morning meal.  It must be important indeed.  An assignation, perhaps?" 

Her lips twitched.  She hadn't thought that anything could lighten her mood this morning, but that had.  How absurd.  With a sigh, she shook her head.  "A covenant," she said simply.

Snape opened his mouth to question her further, but a heavy hand fell on his arm and he stopped and turned to see Albus Dumbledore standing quietly beside him his solemn eyes focused on Minerva.

"March second," he said softly.  "Please, extend my respects."

Her eyes glittered and she nodded without speaking, then as quickly as she could, she turned and opened the heavy door and made her escape into the wet world outside.

Snape frowned and turned to question the Headmaster, but he was abruptly ushered into the Great Hall and swept determinedly along.  "Come along Severus.  Breakfast awaits.  The house elves promised me blueberry pancakes this morning with real maple syrup, and some of their best cinnamon buns, I'm extremely hungry aren't you?"

"Of course," murmured Snape.  His hunger would obviously be assuaged but he rather thought his curiosity would linger.


	26. Sex, Tea, and the Hand of Fate

Challenge # 30: Tea      Two characters have tea together.  The piece must be written entirely in dialogue, and it should be apparent who is having tea, where they're having tea, and what their relationship is as well as why they are getting together for tea.

Title: Sex, Tea, and the Hand of Fate

Rating:  Tough to do….it's all dialogue so based on the words…PG…based on the implied actions…shall we say…a tad higher? ;)

                             *****************************************************************************************

"Sex, Tea, and the Hand of Fate" 

"Ah, you're right on time, do sit down."

"Oh thank you.  Whew!  That's a very long climb to get all the way up here, especially for someone of my stature.  I've always envied people who had long legs like yours.  It makes climbs like this so much easier, I'd imagine."

"Nonsense.  Your legs are just the right length for you.  If they were any longer you'd be tripping yourself up everywhere you go.  You wouldn't be you…and you're fine just the way you are."

"Oh…well, I've never looked at it that way before.  Hm…you might be right, at that.  I suppose that I wouldn't be me if my legs were any longer now would I?"

"Exactly."

"I must say that I was rather surprised to get your extremely kind invitation to tea today."

"Well, I've wanted to invite you for quite awhile, but something always seemed to go amiss.   Today just seemed to be the right time.  All the proper signs were in place.  My horoscope, my morning tea leaves, and my starchart all said that I would attain my heart's desire today…indeed that I couldn't fail in whatever I attempted…so…I threw caution to the wind…and here you are."

"Oh…uh…and your desire was to have tea with me?  How delightful.  What type of tea do you find provides the best remains for divining the future anyway?  I've always wondered how it all worked.  There are so many varieties, after all, and the consistency will vary depending…"

"Oh, it doesn't matter.  Any variety will do.  The vibrations come from the drinker, and the interpretations come from the reader.  All that's really necessary from the tea is to be drunk and leave dregs in the bottom of the cup."

"Ah.  I see.  Yes, well how interesting.  So any…um…excuse me, but what are you doing?"

"Relax, my dear.  Put yourself in my hands.  I can promise that you won't regret it."

"Well, I don't know, it's somewhat irregular, but…oh…oh my!"

"Am I hurting you?  I can stop if you wish."

"I…oh no…you aren't hurting me a bit.  In fact, it feels quite delightful.  Oh yes…right there…oh…harder …yes, that's excellent.   You're wonderfully talented.  I'd never have guessed."

"Oh, yes.  I'm trained in therapeutic massage.   I've spent nearly as much time learning all the ins and outs of the pleasure centers and pressure points of the human body as I have learning how to read the future in the bottom of a cup.  I so seldom get to practice this particular skill, though."

"Mmmm…well, you must feel free to practice it on me any time you wish…oh yes…my, my…"

"Oh, good.  I was hoping that you'd say that.  Now how does this feel?"

"OH!"

"Doesn't that feel good?"

"Oh, yes…uh…OH…OH…um…is that part of your training, too?  Oh, my…"

"Oh…well…not really…I've just wanted to touch for so long…do you want me to stop then?  I fear that I've gotten a bit carried away with my passion.  I am a very passionate person you know…"

"Yes…yes, I can see that…oh…gods…that feels so good…no…please, don't stop…that feels so …."

"Oh, yes….oh…it's everything I've ever imagined…you're everything I ever imagined…  Oh my!"

"I believe it's my turn now to make you feel good…isn't it, my dear?"

"Oh…yes…Cassandra's moons…yes…yes…YES!"

***silence***

"Oh dear…I'm afraid the tea has gone cold."

"I wouldn't worry about it.  Certainly nothing else was cold."

~giggle~

"Yes, well…I'm so glad that you invited me to "tea" today.  Yes, indeed, very glad…yes…very glad."

"It was my pleasure.  We should do this more often."

"Oh my yes.  That's a perfectly splendid idea.  Yes, it is.  Perhaps we should meet a couple of times a week.  I'm sure that that would just improve my whole outlook tremendously.  Oh yes."

"Mine, too.  I'm free on Thursday…after four."

"What a coincidence…so am I."

"No, my dear…it's not a coincidence at all…it's fate."


	27. The Grass is Always Green on the Other S...

**Challenge # 31  Show envy.  The piece must include one of the Hogwarts teachers.**

Author's Note:  This entry is actually a matching pair of pieces that show the same event from the viewpoints of two different people.  Each individual piece was written within the thirty minute time frame.

Title:  The Grass Is Always Greener

Rating: PG

Main character:  Minerva McGonagall

The Grass is Always Greener 

Remus Lupin opens the door to me with a big smile on his face.  "Hello, Minerva.  Everyone's downstairs.  Molly's just started opening presents.  You're right on time."

I smile.  "Good.  I'm glad to know that I'm in time.  Everything seemed to be conspiring against me today, and I wasn't sure that I'd make it."

Remus smiled back as he closed the door behind me and ushered me down the hall towards the kitchen stairs.  "Well…there wasn't any reason to rush .  With so many Weasleys to give gifts and be fussed over, the whole process takes quite a while.  You're here in plenty of time."

I nod but refrain from answering.  Yes, there are so many Weasleys, aren't there?  Molly has such a wonderful family.  She can fill a room with her relatives.

When Remus and I enter the crowded kitchen, Molly is seated at the far end of the room surrounded by her husband and her adoring children and friends.  She looks like a queen seated on her throne with her court paying homage.  Everyone is laughing and talking at once.  I've never been quite sure how they all keep track of what everyone is saying when they all talk at once like that, but they seem to manage.  Years of practice, and depth of familial understanding, I suppose.

My heart beats a little quicker as I approach with my offering.  Truth to tell, I'm a little nervous.  My life is so different from Molly's.  I never know what to get for her for her birthday.  Sometimes I seem to do all right, but other years, I can tell that I've made the wrong choice, though she'd never actually tell me that.  Which will it be this time, I wonder?

Molly looks up at my approach.  "Minerva!  How nice of you to come."  She smiles that motherly smile and gets up from her seat to embrace me.

I embrace her back fondly and hand her my package, then I hold my breath to see.  "Happy Birthday, Molly."

"Thank you.  As you can see it's been just lovely so far.  There's nothing I enjoy more than having all my family around me."  She beams, then as a stray thought crosses her mind, she falters slightly.  "Well, most of them anyway." 

Her smile looks slightly strained for a moment, and I realize with a quick glance around that Percy still has not made an appearance to wish his mother well.  She shakes her disquietude off quickly, though and squeezing my hand briefly, she opens my gift with a smile of anticipation.

"Oh, Minerva, how thoughtful.  The new cookbook by Julia Crocker Stewart!  I've heard so many wonderful things about this book, the recipes are supposed to be scrumptious.  Arthur will be so happy!  He really loves a good meal, you know."  She smiles happily and I breathe a small sight of relief.  A good choice this year…I thank my helper for her good advice.

"I'm glad you like it, Molly.  Irma suggested it.  She said that it had gotten excellent reviews and because it was so new, you might not have bought it yourself yet.  I must admit that when I looked through it, there did seem to be a lot of delicious sounding dishes that were included."

Molly nodded and embraced me quickly again.  "I love it.  Thank you again.  We'll have to have you to dinner and try out something from the book."  Then she smiled once more and returned to her seat to pick up the next offering from the next loving child in line.

I step back to the fringes of the crowd and watch.  A cookbook.  Thank goodness that Irma was right.  I never know about things like this.  When was the last time that I actually cooked anything?  So many years that I simply can't remember.  Did I enjoy it?  I think I did actually.  Perhaps I should give it a try again.  Though I'm not sure that there'd be much point.  There wouldn't be anyone to cook for except myself.

My throat tightens as I watch Arthur reach over and hug his wife as she says something that amuses him and all the children laugh and vie for the chance to make the next bit of conversation.

These gatherings are so hard.  I truly hate feeling this way.  Most of the time I'm very content with my life.  I love my job.  I love my students.  I have my interests. I do what I want with my time.  I don't lack for things to keep me busy or people to spend time with, but for some reason whenever I see and spend time with Molly and Arthur and their family, all I want to do is cry.  Does she realize how lucky she is to have someone like Arthur to stand beside her everyday and lie beside her at night?  Does she realize how much of a blessing each and every child is?  Even the one whose absence causes her pain.  I'm sure that she does.  How could she not?  How could anyone not deeply appreciate being the center of so much love?

Suddenly Albus touches my arm and frowns gently at me as I turn to his questioning eyes and try to banish the envy in my own.  "Are you all right, Minerva?  You look a bit down."

I sigh and force a smile.  "I'm fine, Albus.  Just a little tired.  It's been a rather long day after all, and I'm not really used to big crowds like this.  I think I just need to sit down for a while.  Then everything will be fine…just fine…as it always is." 

                                                                                                                ~*~

Title:  On the Other Side of the Fence

Rating:  PG

Main Character:  Molly Weasley

On The Other Side Of The Fence 

Ron hands me his gift and stands back looking proud.  Hmmm…makes me worry a bit.  The last time he had that look on his face when he gave me a gift, it was a bag of chocolate covered cockroaches.  Of course, he was only five and it was hardly his fault that Fred and George, those scamps, had convinced him that that was my favorite sweet.  God, eating those things was difficult!  I certainly hope his choice is better this time, but whatever it is, I'm sure that I'll love it.  I'm his mother after all.

I tear open the package and discover that he's still trying to feed me sweets.  "Chocolate frogs!  How lovely, dear.  Thank you so much."  I smile and kiss him fondly.

"I'm glad you like 'em, Mum.  Can I have the cards if you don't want 'em?"  His eyes sparkle brightly, the tease.

"Well, I don't know, Ron, I was thinking of starting up a collection myself."  I smile at him and he blushes and smiles back.

"Oh, Mum…you know you aren't."

I sigh and nod.  "Of course you can have the cards, dear."

"Thanks, Mum.  I knew you'd let me." He grins as Ginny rolls her eyes and heaves a sigh of her own.  

Suddenly I'm aware that someone new has entered the room.  Oh my, it's Minerva.  How lovely that she'd take the time to come!  Eagerly I get to my feet and embrace the taller witch.  

"Minerva!  How nice of you to come."  Why does she always look so nervous when she talks to me?  Me?  As if there's any reason for a fine lady like Minerva McGonagall to be nervous around someone like me.  She's always so kind and thoughtful, though, and she's been awfully good to the children over the years.

A cookbook.  She's gotten me a cookbook.  Oh, my, such an expensive one, too.  She seems a bit unsure whether or not I'll like it, but really it's the thought that counts, isn't it?  And this is a very lovely and thoughtful gift.  I'll just have to make sure that she knows that I appreciate it.

"We'll have to have you to dinner and try out something from the book."  We both smile, and she steps back into the crowd of celebrants as I return to my seat.

The book is a lovely gift, but now I'm going to have to cook dinner for her.  Will I dare?  She's used to things being much finer than what I can offer.  She has a whole staff of house elves to cook for her after all.

I watch her turn aside and speak to Albus Dumbledore.  Then the two of them move off and take seats together on the far side of the room.  I wonder what they're talking about?  I'll bet it's not anything as mundane as cooking and chocolate frogs.

Minerva is such an interesting woman.  So strong and independent, always doing fascinating things.  She doesn't spend her time sitting around at home worrying about what trouble everyone in her family is getting into.  She probably hasn't used a cookbook herself in years!  Hasn't cleaned a pot, or a toilet, or done mountains of laundry either.  I wonder if she's ever darned a sock?  

I sigh.  Why couldn't my life have turned out like hers?  I was good in school.  I could've had a career.  Done something interesting and valuable with my life.  Been respected by others in the community.  Oh well…we all make choices in life.  My life is certainly not dull with all that I have going on all the time, and I wouldn't give up Arthur and the kids for anything.  Still…I wonder what it would've been like to stand out in a crowd like Minerva, instead of just blending in and being just a small piece of a very large pie.  No point in wishing for things to be any different though…my life is fine…just fine…as it always is.


	28. Trivial Pursuit

Challenge # 33:  Page 394      Snape tells someone to turn to page 394 in a book…who and what they find there is up to you.

Title: Trivial Pursuit

Rating: R

Pairing: MM/SS

Trivial Pursuit 

Severus dropped the book in her lap.  "Turn to page 394.  All the pertinent information is there."

Minerva picked up the book of Quidditch rules and frowned.  Then she turned to the front of the book and looked at the publication data.  "Severus.  This book is ancient!  These rules were superceded a hundred years ago."

He shrugged and sat down across from her.  "Your point is?  You asked where it said that blocking in this manner was permissible.  You said," he stressed the word sharply, "that you'd take any printed set of rules as proof.  Well there are your rules.  Are you now backing off because you're running out of garments to hide behind?"  He smirked at her.

She blushed and ran a nervous hand along the hem of the thin shift that she wore.  "No…of course not."

Severus relaxed back into his chair and took a sip from his wine glass as he raised an eyebrow and made a hurrying gesture with his hand.

"Well then, I win the point.  Your turn to remove a garment.  You really have no cause to complain here, Minerva.  Women have an unfair advantage at this game in the first place as they seem to wear far more items of clothing than men do.

She set the rulebook aside and stood up, then frowned down at him.  "Not more than you do, my dear.  You've always more than been able to match me item for item every time we've played this game."

He shrugged and took another sip from his glass.  "If you say so.  Now, no more stalling.  That garment hinders my view, Minerva…please remove it…now."

She pressed her lips together primly and grasped the hem of the shift.  Then she slowly began to raise it up and over her body, pausing just as she got to her bosom.  "Do hairpins count in this game?  I've forgotten."

He chuckled and shook his head as he set his glass aside and leaned closer to her.  "Nice try.  If cufflinks don't count then hairpins most certainly do not."

"Oh all right," she murmured softly and pulled the shift over her head leaving her with nothing to clothe her body with but a pair of silk stockings and a very brief pair of lace and silk panties.  She turned away from him momentarily to drape the shift over the back of her chair.  When she turned back again, she discovered that he'd left his chair and was standing so closely that she could feel the heat radiating from his bare skin as it was almost touching her own.  

His hand reached out to caress the full orb of soft pale flesh that beckoned to his tingling fingers.  Just as he was about to make contact, she brought her hand down on top of his in a stinging slap.

"Sorry, Severus…no touching until someone wins this silly game and their "opponent" is completely naked.  In case you didn't notice…I still have three items left to remove."

"Oh I noticed," he murmured softly.  The unique timbre of his voice caused her nipples to harden as he watched in fascination.

She cleared her throat and attempted to continue.  "It's your turn to ask a question."

"Right…"  His eyes continued to caress her body following a pattern that his fingers were aching to mimic.

"You know…you could speed up the process by simply asking a question that you know that I can answer since you're down to one final garment yourself."  Her voice trailed off hopefully as her eyes focused on the pair of boxers that he wore and its rather large tented front.

He raised an eyebrow and brought his eyes up to stare into hers.  "Well…I had considered that, of course, but it hardly seemed like the proper thing to simply let you win…besides, you Gryffindors are all about honour…surely such a spurious triumph would be frowned upon.  I wouldn't want to prevent you from satisfying your thirst for honest victory."

Minerva smiled and casually ran a hand down over her own body gently caressing her breasts and letting her fingertips drift down over the slight swell of her stomach to trace lightly along the band of her panties.  "Actually I'm a bit more interested in satisfying something other than my sense of honour at the moment."

Tension crackled in the air between them for a brief moment as they stared hungrily into each other's eyes.  Then Severus broke the silence sharply with his question.

"What colour are the sheets on my bed?"

"White," she answered firmly.

The boxers fell to the floor abruptly and he stepped up and embraced her eagerly.  "You win," he breathed against her lips before kissing her passionately, his firm body pressed hungrily to her own.

"Would you like to check and see if my answer to that last question is correct?" she gasped as his lips moved off and down along her throat.  "It might've changed in the last hour or so after all."

With a smirk, Severus swept her up into his arms and headed off to the bedroom.  "By all means…you can't be too careful with Gryffindors.  Sometimes they cheat."

"Only in a good cause, Severus…only in a good cause."


	29. Anything Can Happen

Challenge# 34: Relate HP characters to the lyrics from the song "Anything Can Happen" by Jackson Browne.

Title: Anything Can Happen

Rating: PG

Author's Notes: Character Death

Anything Can Happen

**"In the secret wars we call our lives…anything can happen"**

My trembling hands smooth over broken flesh, piece together tattered limbs and portions of your body. With a flash of my wand and a few quietly murmured words, I close gaping wounds and make what was battered and torn…whole once more. An illusion, I know…but I do not have the skill for more. I cannot bring back the spark that was lost forever when the cruelty of war was unleashed.

Since there was no need for Poppy's medical intervention, my transfiguration skills were deemed the best choice for this job…and I was glad. For it meant that I'd have a bit of privacy…could claim a final bit of time alone…with you…to make my peace…to say goodbye. I know if I'd been forced to share this task with anyone else I'd have broken down and wept…and given myself away. Pain flows more easily in silence. Tears slide more freely when there's no other to mark their course.

My hands glide over your now smooth chest…no disfiguring marks remain. To look at you now…no one would know that they'd taken your heart and burned it to ashes that they'd scattered over your broken corpse…just as no one will ever know that they did the same to mine. So much remains unseen…unknown…but never unfelt…or unmourned.

**"We watch the days, we make our plans, we change in ways that life demands"**

Somehow I manage to tear my eyes from you long enough to take up the first of your garments…carefully chosen. Gently I run the smooth silk through my fingers and then begin the task of clothing your body for the final time. Once we'd made a game of this in reverse…removing one piece of clothing at a time amidst teasing laughter and stolen kisses…waiting…waiting for the moment when all clothing was removed…all barriers breached…all defenses down.

Slowly…carefully…piece by piece…each crease is smoothed into place…each button pushed carefully through each waiting hole. Over and over again…one after another…the ritual familiar…the rhythm soothing. Stiff black fabric is pulled into position and caressed a final time. This jacket was to be kept for better times…the ones we'd talked of in whispers as the candles burned too low to any longer see expressions. The only time we dared to talk aloud of things to come was deep into the depths of night when fate might not notice…and so pass us by…or so we hoped. In vain…

"**While I swear I'll never let you go…anything can happen**" 

I can't hold back the tears any longer now…to see you lying there before me so still…so perfect…as if waiting to awaken at any moment. I want to go back and start again…to hold back time for just a while yet. Life is fleeting and unfair… Time flows in so uneven a stream…you had far fewer days than I and each was more a trial. Why am I the one left to sit and mourn…to remember…to always remember?

My fingers slide up the sides of your still face and push softly into your dark hair. I let my thumb brush gently across the fullness of your bottom lip and encircle your chin slowly before I bend and bring my lips to yours one last time. For just a moment, I can pretend that love's kiss could work its spell and bring you back to me…but fairytales are only dreams. Life has crueler edges…sharper pain…wars to be fought…struggles to endure. In war anything can happen. I just wish that this time…it had happened to me.


	30. Shifting Sands

Challenge# 35 Flying Lessons…write anything as long as it involves flying ability (or its lack), a stumble on the ground or in the air, a surprising revelation.

Title:  Shifting Sands

Rating: PG

Characters:  Severus Snape, Narcissa Malfoy

"Shifting Sands"

 "Come in, Severus.  Thank you for coming so promptly."  Narcissa's voice flowed over the potions master like overripe honey.

Snape paused inside the study door and studied the woman who sat before him in an oversized easy chair twirling a glass of brandy in her elegant hands.  She looked as tight as a coiled spring just waiting to pounce on someone, and he knew that since there were only the two of them here, he was most likely the target du jour.

Slowly Narcissa unwound herself from her chair.  Languidly she took a final sip from her glass and set it aside then she uncrossed her long shapely legs and rose to her feet in a single fluid motion.  With a predatory expression on her lovely face, she crossed the room casually and stopped far too close to Snape for his peace of mind.

"How can I be of service, Narcissa?" Snape asked with what he hoped was an encouraging smile.  Time to find out just what was what around here.

The blond beauty smiled and lightly brushed a delicate finger down the side of his face.  "Due to Lucius' unfortunate…incarceration, I have taken over his positions of authority," she purred softly.

Snape nodded.  "Yes, I assumed that you would.  You are his wife after all, and thus the titular head of the Malfoy family at the moment."  Where was this leading?

She let her finger trail down off his face and onto his chest drawing mindless patterns on the heavy dark fabric with a blood red nail.

"You aren't listening, Severus.  I said…that I have taken over his positions of authority…all…his positions of authority.  Including that which he held with our Master."  She began to pace around him slowly, her eyes never leaving him for a moment, her fingers continuing to trail along his chest then around his shoulders to his back.

He stiffened up fractionally and nodded.  "I see…so I am here on official business then."

She smiled and stepped in close and put her lips mere millimeters from his ear as she breathed.  "Yes…and no."

Snape raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.  "Can we please cut out the games, Narcissa?  Obviously you have something that you want me to do for our Master.  Can't you simply tell me what it is without all the seductive overtones?"

Silvery laughter echoed in his ears as she stepped away from him and crossed the room to the massive desk against the far wall.  "I never could disconcert you, Severus.  Pity that.  All right.  Let's cut to the chase then."  Swiftly she reached out and picked up a scroll of parchment from the desk's surface and re-crossed the room to his side.

"Our Master is granting me a boon in recognition of my stepping up and filling in for my incompetent husband."  She handed the scroll to Snape.  "This arrived by owl this afternoon.  I suppose you already know all about it?"

Snape opened the scroll and glanced at the message written inside.  His lips tightened and he nodded his head.  "Yes, I was there," he commented dryly.

Narcissa's voice took on more steel than he'd ever heard in it before.  "That miscreant Potter slams into my son in mid-air and causes them to both crash to the ground.  Draco ends up with a broken arm and this harpy has the gall to blame the incident on Draco.  I have truly had it with her.  For years now I've put up with the insolent condescension of this woman.  She refuses to give the Malfoys their due as one of the oldest and noblest families in the wizarding world.  She's rude and pretentious, and I will not put up with her insults any longer.  This is the final indignity."

Snape narrowed his eyes and asked cautiously, "And how does all this involve me?"

Narcissa smiled a very nasty smile and stepped close to Snape once more.  She slid her arms around his neck and placed her lips lightly on his as her voice dropped to a poisonous whisper once more.  "The Dark Lord has no use for her…and neither do I.  I've decided that the honour of the Malfoy family can no longer tolerate the slurs that she heaps upon us.  An example must be made.  So I want her eliminated.  You have the means and the opportunity…and the confidence of our Master…so the job is yours."

He shivered at the coldness of her tone as she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and ran her teeth along it lightly before releasing it and him.  Then she turned and walked away to once more reclaim her glass of brandy.

Carelessly she gestured with her glass once she'd taken another sip.  "I don't really care how you do it.  You are the Potions master after all so I will rely on your knowing what potion would be best for the job, but I want her to suffer…greatly.  By this time tomorrow, Severus…I want Minerva McGonagall dead.  No excuses."


	31. While the Cat's Away

Challenge # 37: A Secret Tryst Two characters have a secret love affair or a one-night stand…and are caught. What happens?

**Title: **While the Cat's Away…

**Rating: **R

**Pairing: **SS/NM

While the Cat's Away… 

The kiss was long and slow and deep. Narcissa quite enjoyed having a man's hands on her body again, and Snape's hands were elegant and very obviously experienced. With a sigh she pulled slightly away and let her head fall back against her smooth shoulders exposing her long slender throat for the pleasure of his questing mouth.

"Oh, Severus…we should've done this years ago," she moaned softly as she felt his hands sliding down her satin clad back and grasp her derriere to pull her tightly against his taut body. His avid erection pulsed strongly against her abdomen.

Snape was all angles and long lean lines with sharp edges while she was nothing but exquisite curves and soft languid limbs. They fit together like oil and water…complementary yet opposite.

"Perhaps," Snape's low voice murmured in response. "But there's been one small impediment to our union before now."

She sighed as his fingers slid slowly up the soft flesh of her naked thigh and disappeared beneath the hem of her negligee. "Yes…Lucius…but we don't need to worry about him anymore. He's off entertaining the dementors while we entertain each other."

Suddenly the door to Narcissa's bedchamber flew open and an unexpected figure stood framed in the doorway. Severus and Narcissa broke apart abruptly and both turned to stare with shocked expressions on their pale faces at the figure of Lucius Malfoy as he stood before them with a wand in his hand and a furious expression on his face.

"So…this is what my dear wife gets up to in my absence," he spoke softly with an undercurrent of steel in his fluid voice.

"Lucius…he made me!" pleaded his frantic unfaithful wife.

Lucius turned his gaze on her briefly though his wand never wavered from Snape. "Shut up, Narcissa! I'll deal with you later. First I have a few words for your deceitful lover."

Breathing hard, Narcissa backed slowly away from Snape to stand at a distance and watch the unfolding tableau with gleaming eyes.

"Any last words, Snape?" Malfoy cocked an eyebrow.

"Would it do any good?" asked Snape with his voice full of scorn.

"No. Not a bit. This is how I deal with those who play me false, Severus." Lucius raised his arm.

"Our Master won't want you to kill me, you know…and it's best not to anger him." Was Snape's final dry comment.

Lucius shrugged. "I think he'll understand." Then he pointed the wand between Snape's eyes and cried, "Avada Kadavra."

A brief flash of green and a whistling wind was all that bore witness to the swift death of Severus Snape. As soon as Snape's body hit the floor, Narcissa was once more in her husband's arms, kissing him with a deep and excited passion. When they parted for breath she gasped, "Gods, that makes it more exciting, Lucius."

The triumphant wizard chuckled as he ripped the satin gown from his wife's body and crushed her against him. "Yes. I've always thought of death as a rather powerful aphrodisiac myself."

"He wasn't right though…was he? You won't get in trouble for killing one of the Master's favorites…will you?" She breathed into his long blond locks as he buried his face in her bosom.

"No, my dear," Lucius murmured between kisses. "A man is allowed to defend his honour after all." He began to chuckle deeply and her silvery laugh joined with his to provide an attractive counterpoint.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Malfoy's eyes snapped open and he gave a gasp. He glanced around in momentary confusion then as his heartbeat began to slow, he sighed deeply. How disappointing to find himself once more within the dreary confines of his cell in Azkaban prison instead of within the arms of his wife. It was simply another one of those dreams! He'd killed off several of his enemies in his mind lately…unfortunately he always seemed to awaken before he had a chance to finish making love to his wife. A pity.

Curious. Lucius leaned back against his pillow with a frown on his aristocratic features as he crossed his arms thoughtfully beneath his silver blond head. All of the other men that he'd blasted out of his wife's lovely arms had been clear enemies, but he had no quarrel with Severus Snape. Did he?


	32. Spy Vs Spy

**Challenge # 38:  Write a piece that includes Hagrid in a Pub.**

**Title: Spy Vs. Spy**

**Rating: PG**

Hagrid sat in his seat at the back of the smoke filled pub and sipped slowly on a flagon of ale.  He'd been sitting here alone for a couple of hours and nothing of interest had happened yet so he was considering packing it in for the night.  Then just as he was fishing for some coins in one of his voluminous pockets, the door to the pub opened and Minerva McGonagall came in.

Hagrid was about to hail her when something about her manner stopped him.  She was being furtive.  In his experience, the Deputy Headmistress was never furtive.  In fact she was one of the most forthright people he knew.  But at the moment it was clear that she was hoping not to be seen…she was wearing an enveloping black cloak with the hood pulled far forward over her head…not her usual attire at all.

She paused near the door and scanned the interior of the pub quickly.  Hagrid felt the irrational urge to duck but her eyes never got to where he was sitting.  Instead they quickly focused on a figure who was dressed identically to herself and was sitting at a table in another dark corner of the pub.  Her eyes lit up as they alighted on this figure and she scurried across the room and joined him.

Hagrid squinted into the smoke to try to make out the features of the cloaked figure at the table and was a bit surprised to be able to pick out the hawklike profile of Professor Snape beneath a mantle of black cloth.  He watched with interest as McGonagall slid into a chair next to Snape and the two of them began to converse in low and intense voices.

Before he could wonder too much about what was up, the two figures in black got up from their table and moved across the room towards a narrow staircase that Hagrid knew led upstairs to some small rooms that rented out by the hour.  Almost as surprising as the direction that they headed in was the fact that Snape's right hand was encouraging his companion on by caressing her derriere quite suggestively.

As the two of them disappeared up the stairs towards the first floor rooms, Hagrid debated with himself whether or not it would be worth hanging around any longer.  He'd already learned something more than he ever expected tonight, and it really wasn't any of his business anyway.  Yet, he found himself signaling to the waitress as she passed his table and ordering another ale as he settled himself down to wait.

Surprisingly barely ten minutes later both cloaked figures returned to the bar.  Hardly enough time to have done much of anything, in his opinion, but then who knew exactly what the two of them were up to.  McGonagall headed swiftly for the outside door but Snape sauntered across the room more casually and leaned up against the bar.  Curiosity overcame caution and Hagrid tipped back his flagon and drained the contents, then he tossed a handful of coins onto the table.  Slowly he got up and walked over to the bar to lean against it next to the black cloaked figure of Professor Snape.

"Evenin' Perfesser," he said, addressing the smaller man.

"Good evening, Hagrid.  I saw you sitting back there and wondered if you'd come over and say hello."  The mild and somewhat amused voice of Remus Lupin drifted up to the surprised groundskeeper as the man in the black cloak looked up at him with a slight smile.

Hagrid was shocked and momentarily at a loss for words.  "Uh…uh…" he stammered.  "Uh…hello, Perfesser Lupin."

Lupin grinned more broadly.  "There not any need for the title any longer, Hagrid…remember?"

Hagrid nodded silently.  Then he looked at Lupin and said, "'cuse me…I thought I saw…no, I guess not."

Lupin nodded slowly.  "Professor Snape?" he asked softly.

Hagrid nodded again and gestured towards the door with a large hand.

Lupin nodded again.  "Oh, that wasn't really Minerva either, you know," he added with a smile.  Then as Hagrid watched he took a small flask from an inside pocket and took a swig from it before replacing it and watching Hagrid attentively once more.

Hagrid just stared.  Something odd was going on no question.  "If that wasn't Perfesser McGonagall then who was it?" the confused man asked.

Lupin sighed.  "Well, that is the question isn't it, my friend."  Then he laughed and dropped a few coins of his own onto the bar, patted Hagrid on the back and turned to head off for the door.  "Don't waste your time trying to figure it all out, Hagrid.  It's all an illusion anyway," he called softly over his shoulder.  Then chuckling to himself at his own private joke he slipped out of the smoky room into the cool dark night.

Hagrid watched him go with an expression of confusion on his open face…until the door closed.  Then his expression subtly changed to a slight smirk.  He glanced down at his own watch for a moment, then he too removed a private flask from an inner pocket and took a sip.  "Time flies doesn't it," he murmured softly.  Then he too headed out of the bar into the darkness beyond.


	33. Counting the Days

Challenge #39: Better Late Than Never…Pick two HP characters, make one of them late for something important…

**Title: Counting the Days**

**Rating: PG**

Characters: Remus and Tonks 

Remus Lupin sat in the middle of the floor of the front parlour in the house on Grimmauld Place and frowned down at the mess of small metal parts spread around him. How in hell did he manage to get himself into these things? It was a gift apparently.

Tonks opened the door to the room and stuck her head in. "Hey, Remus…you got a minute?" Her eyes opened wide as she saw the mess and she stepped inside.

"What's all this stuff? Did you break something? I could help you clean it up…I'm good at banishing spells."

Remus grinned up at her. "Sure looks like I broke something, doesn't it? Actually I was trying to fix something, but I'm afraid it's a lost cause.

Tonks crossed the room and stared down at the welter of metal parts. "What the hell is it…or was it?"

"It was a toaster. One of those Muggle devices that makes toast for breakfast."

Tonks put a hand on her hip and sighed in mild disgust. "I know what a toaster is, mate. But why are you trying to fix one, and doing such a ruddy good job of it, too?"

Remus laughed. "Oh yeah…just call me Mr. Fix-it. Actually Molly asked me to give it a try. Arthur has all these Muggle contraptions all over the house, and she's tired of having them take up space. She figured that if some of them worked it might not be so bad, so I offered to give it a try, but it's hopeless. The thing needs electricity to work properly, and I just can't seem to find a way to substitute magic as a power source. I'm afraid she's out of luck."

Tonks grinned. "Maybe that's what she had in mind?"

Remus grinned back. "Maybe. So what brings you here today?"

Tonks suddenly looked a little nervous and shoving her hand through her neon green shock of hair she paced around the room and flopped down onto an ancient davenport raising a cloud of dust. The girl coughed and choked and exclaimed loudly when she got her breath back, "God, Remus, don't you ever clean around here?"

Remus shrugged. "Well, technically that's Kreacher's job. He doesn't do it, of course, but he doesn't want anyone else to do it either. Makes it a bit hard sometimes. This room doesn't get used too much though so it doesn't really matter a whole lot."

"I suppose not."

Remus went back to fiddling with his bits of toaster and Tonks watched him from the couch while nervously chewing on a lock of hair. Just as he was about to try breaking the silence once more, she sat up and asked, "What do you want to do when the war is over?"

Remus looked at her in surprise. "Well, I don't know… I'm just hoping to survive that long. Why do you ask?"

She jumped to her feet and began to pace. "Oh, I don't know. I was just thinking about what it might be like. You know, to have a normal life…just do a job and maybe have a family and stuff."

Remus frowned. "Are you worried that you won't survive, Tonks? That you won't ever get to have that family?" Remus asked gently.

The girl sighed and shot him a sideways grin. "Well…maybe a little. How about you? Do you ever just want to meet someone nice and kind and settle down…have kids?"

Remus turned away and picked up a piece of the toaster, turning it over and over in his hands. "I don't really see that sort of life in the cards for me, Tonks," he said softly.

"Why not? You're nice and kind. And you'd make a great Dad. Unlike mine, but that's another story."

He snorted softly. "Well, thanks, but what I really am is a nice and kind werewolf. I can't forget that part of things. It wouldn't be fair to saddle any woman with something like that…and children? No. I don't think so."

Tonks stopped her pacing and went very still. "Oh. So you don't ever want to have a family then."

Remus frowned up at her. "It's not really a matter of not wanting to as opposed to not thinking that it would be the right thing to do. What's this all about anyway? You know that no matter what I want to do with my life, it doesn't have anything to do with what you choose to do with your life, Tonks. You don't have the problems that I have, and you're a sweet girl…any guy would be lucky to have you. You shouldn't be wasting time worrying about this. When the time comes…you'll find someone special and it'll all work out. You just see if it doesn't." He smiled encouragingly at her.

She smiled a thin sort of sickly smile back. "Well, actually, Remus…it does sort of have something to do with you."

"Oh?" He frowned in confusion.

"Yeah…you remember that night…a few days after Sirius died?"

"Yeah?" Remus voice stretched out the word cautiously.

"Well…gosh there's no easy way to say this so I might as well just spill it. I'm late."

"Late?" Now he was confused.

She rolled her eyes and stared at him strongly. "Yeah…Remus…late…as in LATE…"

"Oh." Remus eyes widened in understanding. "OH!" Then his face went as pale as Nearly Headless Nick. "oh…uh oh…"

Tonks sighed deeply and shrugged in apology. "Yeah…"oh" Surprise…guess my future plans might have something to do with you after all, huh?"


	34. The Truth, The Whole Truth, and Nothing ...

**Challenge #42: Someone has a magical malady.**

**Title: The Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing But The Truth**

**Rating: PG**

Characters: Remus and Tonks 

Remus yawned as he walked down the stairs at Grimmauld Place. The house was awfully quiet for this time of day. No wonder he'd fallen asleep at his desk. As he wandered the length of the second floor, he noticed a very large sign on the door to the bedroom that Tonks used when she stayed there. It said "Quarantined" in large red letters.

Puzzled he paused and rapped on the door softly. "Hey, Tonks…are you in there?"

Inside he could hear movement and then Tonks' voice floated back sounding as if it was struggling with itself. "errr…yes. Damn it! Yes, I'm here…but don't come in, okay?"

"Why not? What's wrong? Why does the sign say Quarantined?"

"Errr…oh, damn it…nothing's really wrong…exactly…I don't want you to come in because it's embarrassing…the sign says quarantined so that everyone would stay away…including you…damn it…especially you." Tonks voice sounded very frazzled. "There…happy now!" she declared in disgust.

Remus frowned and opened the door. This wasn't like Tonks at all. When he peeked inside the room he found her sitting cross legged in the middle of her bed with her arms folded and a frown on her face. Of course that wasn't all that was on her face. Her usually quite attractive face was covered with small lumps, and the lumps extended to her arms as well.

Remus was alarmed. He crossed the room in a hurry and stood looking down at her. "Tonks. What the heck are those lumps? You look as if you were stung by something."

Tonks just looked up at him and gritted her teeth. He could see her struggling with something, but finally her mouth just flew open and she blurted out. "Errr…oh…the lumps are some sort of allergic reaction to this stupid truth serum. Dex at the Ministry asked me if I'd be willing to test this stuff…supposed to last longer than Veritaserum and be more powerful. I said sure…like an idiot. Unfortunately I seem to be allergic to it because I swelled up like a balloon and got all…lumpy."

She sagged back on the bed and looked dejected. "I didn't want you…ah… or anyone…to see me like this. At least the swelling's gone down."

Remus suppressed a smile. "I see. So that's why the sign, I guess."

She nodded.

"Well, how long does it last?" he asked.

The girl jumped off the bed and began to pace around gesturing wildly. "Geez, Remus…I don't know. Apparently they were trying for something that would last longer than Veritaserum, and that part seems to have worked great! Dex swore I only got one drop. With Veritas that would have worn off after about an hour, but it's been almost six, and I'm still spouting the truth whether I want to or not, any time anyone asks me anything. What if it never wears off? What if I'm stuck puking the truth all over everybody any time I'm asked something for the rest of my life?!"

She flopped down on the bed again and stuck her fist under her chin. "I'd have to give up being an Auror. I couldn't do my job if I couldn't ever lie. And what about the Order? All some Death Eater would have to do was ask me to tell them everything I know and I'd be spouting stuff for days!"

Remus sat down next to her with a smile. "Days?"

She glanced sideways at him and crossed her arms in a slight huff. "Okay maybe not days…hours though…I know a lot more than you might think I do, you know. I'm smart."

"I know you are." Remus put a comforting arm around her shoulder, and she stiffened slightly and then leaned against him and laid her head on his shoulder, smiling slightly.

The mood of the room seemed to tense.

Remus ventured another question. "So if I ask you a question you have no choice but to tell me the truth, huh?"

"That's the way it works apparently. Those stupid Ministry potions guys really seem to know their stuff." Her voice was guarded. "You aren't going to take advantage of that now are you?" She lifted her head and looked at him suspiciously.

He smiled at her and raised an eyebrow. "Well…it is awfully tempting."

A shiver ran through her as she gazed deeply into his warm beautiful eyes. This could get awfully embarrassing if he asked the wrong question. On the other hand…it might not be that bad… Maybe this was just the break she needed.

Suddenly he sighed and sat back. "You're right though, it wouldn't be fair to take advantage of you like that."

He began to rise off the bed and she grabbed his arm and pulled him back down next to her. Opportunities like this shouldn't be wasted. Maybe…just maybe…he felt the same way she did. "Uh…it's okay, Remus. I don't mind…you can ask me anything you want. Is there something that you'd like to ask me?" Her voice took on a hopeful tinge.

He smiled warmly again as he heard the hope in her voice and touched her shoulder gently, his fingers playing with her currently long green and purple hair. "Are you sure that you wouldn't mind?"

Shit, she thought suddenly. All of a sudden the compulsion to answer had vanished. She dropped her eyes to her arm and noticed that the lumps were smoothing out. The damn serum must be wearing off. She didn't have to answer any more…but was that a good thing? She looked back up at Remus who was watching her intently and smiling that adorable little half smile of his.

She smiled back. "You can ask me anything, Remus. I'd never lie to you."


	35. A Cat of a Different Color

**Challenge #43: Someone starts something new.**

**Title: A Cat of a Different Color**

**Rating: PG**

**Pairing: AD/MM**

The sleek black cat with the gleaming red collar insinuated itself into the office and padded across the warm rug on silent little feet. When it reached the hearth, it sat down on its haunches and cocked its head to look up at the somber faced man staring into the flames. With a plaintive little mew it sought the man's attention and waited patiently until it got it.

The Headmaster turned away from the mesmerizing fire to focus his eyes on his small visitor. His concerns appeared forgotten as he saw who had interrupted him, and a warm smile instantly graced his lips and peeked slyly from behind his beard.

"Ah, Minerva…this is a new look for you, isn't it?"

In an eye blink, the cat on the rug became a tall willowy woman dressed all in clinging black, the silk of her gown glimmering faintly in the firelight.

With a discontented frown on her face, Minerva McGonagall gave an exasperated sigh and placed a hand on an outthrust hip. "How did you know it was me?"

Dumbledore chuckled warmly. Slowly he rose from his seat by the fire to walk appraisingly around his guest. "That's a very lovely dress, Minerva...and an exquisite necklace as well." He paused and ran a finger lightly along the sparkling ruby choker that she wore around her slender throat. "So…how did you effect such a change? I thought that once one's animagus form was set, it was set for life."

McGonagall smiled smugly as she followed his admiring progress around her with confident eyes. "It's the collar." Her hand came up to trace the contours of the glistening stones. "It's charmed with a chameleon spell. As long as it's around my neck, I'll take on the coloration of whatever I'm wearing when I become the cat. If I wear black…I can become a black cat. White…a white cat."

Dumbledore nodded and his eyes twinkled merrily. "And if you're wearing green or blue…or perhaps…plaid?"

"Well, yes…that wouldn't work at all, of course, but I'll be sure to wear the collar only when I'm wearing an appropriate color of clothing. It's not as if I can't control that after all." She smiled. "I thought you might be interested, though. It will give me greater range when ferreting out information in places where discretion is called for."

"Ah…hoping to vie with Severus for the mantle of most valuable spy?"

A slightly chiding look was flung his way. "Of course not. It just seemed like it could be useful. Or don't you agree?"

"Oh absolutely. Not to mention that it simply looks very lovely around your neck as well, my dear."

A slight flush tinged her skin a light rose. "Thank you," she murmured. "I hoped you'd like it. You never did tell me how you knew it was me, though?"

The tall man moved closer and slid an arm around her body to pull her against him. Then he reached out and tilted her face up to his. "I'd know you anywhere, Minerva…no matter what color fur you're wearing."

With a smile she entangled her fingers in his beard and pulled his face down to hers to murmur softly against his lips. "And what if I'm not wearing any fur?"

His hands skimmed the surface of the sleek fabric she wore and began to undo the row of buttons that cascaded down her back. "Ah…well…that is the way I'd prefer it, you know."


	36. With the Moon at Bay

**Challenge # 43: Someone starts something new.**

**Title: With the Moon at Bay**

**Rating: R**

**Pairing: RL/?**

Her skin tasted so sweet…like ripening fruit after a summer rain. Sweet and firm and sensuous against his lips. He enjoyed running his warm hands slowly down over her body and having her do the same to his…tracing the physical scars of his existence with gentle fingers and the fantasy of kissing them away.

Warm dappled sunlight caressed her hair and set her eyes to sparkling as they lay nestled together in the soft fragrant grass of the meadow, high above Hogwarts. Everything smelled of summer and love and a hope that he hadn't felt in many years. Nature lulled them all around with its quiet sounds of life, and her low laughter echoed comfortingly in his ears filling him with one of those moments of pure happiness that he treasured for their rarity.

Taking a new lover was always an experience to be savored…and he intended to do just that…for few enough had ever come his way. His lips brushed over her skin slowly, moving downward from the swift pulsing at her delicate throat then pausing to kiss and suckle on her nipples…first one and then the other, tasting and comparing the incomparable. His tongue glided down and around each weighted mound and then ever so slowly blazed a path down across her abdomen pausing to swirl itself around her navel before sliding lower to part the soft patch of hair and dip into the honeyed flesh beneath.

A soft sigh met his sharp ears and her body arched suddenly beneath his roughened hands as his tongue and lips found exactly the spot they sought. He could feel his own body responding to the soft cries she made as he brought her to climax beneath his touch. Her long fingers raked excitedly through his tousled gray streaked hair as she gasped out his name to the sky above. His heart reveled in the sound joyously spouting from her lips.

Beneath the boughs of the close and sheltering tree, she lay panting softly as she watched him with shining eyes; the golden spots of sunshine that slipped through the branches overhead, swayed gently across her moist gleaming skin. With a smile filled with desire she opened her arms and legs and drew him within allowing him to fill her with love and his deep need for her. Hands clutched desperately at each other as once more they touched the sky, this time as one…under the warmth of the summer sun…with the moon at bay.


	37. Second Guessing the Headmaster

**Challenge # 43: Someone starts something new.**

**Title: Second Guessing The Headmaster **

**Rating: G**

**Characters: Sibyll Trelawney and Rubeus Hagrid**

Sibyll sat on the stump just inside the forest's edge and sniffled loudly. Her nose was as shiny as a beacon, and her handkerchief was so sodden that it appeared as if she'd doused it in water. As she gave a huge gulping sigh, she suddenly heard a stick break behind her back. Instantly, she jumped to her feet and whirled around, managing to knock her glasses askew as she scrambled to clear her blurry vision.

"Oh, hey, Perfesser…there's no need ter get worried or nothin'. It's just me." Hagrid stood awkwardly a couple of feet away with a slightly nervous smile on his face.

"Oh, Hagrid…you startled me." Sibyll sniffed loudly as she righted her spectacles and wiped her nose on the soggy mess of cloth in her hand. "Please, excuse me. I didn't mean to intrude on your forest."

Hagrid chuckled. "T'ain't my forest. It don't really belong to anyone…well…maybe the Centaurs, I suppose. They certainly act as if they own it anyways." A faint scowl darkened his features for a brief moment.

Sibyll shuddered noticeably. "The Centaurs…yes. Like Firenze…"

"Most o' 'em aren't much like Firenze, though. Unfortunately," stated Hagrid gloomily. Then he looked closer at Trelawney's tear streaked face. "Beggin' yer pardon, Perfessor, but you don't look so good. Is everything okay?"

"Oh," sniffled Sibyll as she tried to straighten up, nervously smoothing down her wild hair. "Yes…yes…allergies…you know."

Hagrid looked doubtful. "Allergies. If you have allergies then why were you sittin' here in the woods? If yer don't mind my askin'…a course."

Sibyll's shoulders slumped. "Oh, all right. No. It's not allergies. We're about to start a new school term, and for the first time…I'm…I'm afraid."

"Afraid? Whot you got to be afraid of? You been teaching here for a long time. It's never scared you before." Hagrid watched her curiously.

The bedraggled witch hung her head and sniffled again. "That's because I always felt that I had the support of the Headmaster before. But ever since I discovered that he only wants to keep me here because of that prophecy I made years ago, I've been feeling…uncertain. I mean…he replaced me! With that Centaur. And all the students seem to love his classes so. It seems as if Dumbledore only keeps me around now because he's afraid to let me go, so I won't tell anyone else what I told him. He doesn't actually have any faith in my abilities at all any more. If he ever did."

Slowly, Sibyll sank back down onto the stump and stared dejectedly at her shoes.

Hagrid came over and sank down onto the ground next to her, putting their heads on an even line.

"Aw, now that ain't the way to think of it at all. I'm sure that Perfesser Dumbledore trusts ya and stuff. He just wants to keep ya safe."

"Safe," she choked out with a strangled little laugh. "Oh yes…I must be kept safe. Do you know I wasn't even allowed to leave the castle this summer? No. Everyone else got to leave and go to their meetings and vacations, but not me. I had to spend the entire summer sitting up there in my tower all alone. It gave me a lot of time to think, and I think that I'm nothing more than a pitiful old fool…and everyone knows it."

"Aw, that's just nonsense." The groundskeeper patted her hand in sympathy. "Dumbledore wouldn't keep you here teaching the kids if he didn't think you had sumthin' of value to give 'em. He's a great man, is Dumbledore. Knows what he's doin' to be sure. He wouldn't have you teach those kids if he didn't believe in you."

Sibyll glanced shyly sideways. "Do you really think so?"

Hagrid nodded solemnly. "Yup."

"Then why does he continue to have Firenze teaching Divination, too?" she asked softly.

"Well, I reckon that Perfesser Dumbledore knows that what you two teach is so important that the students just need a double dose of it."

She brightened up at that. "Do you really think so?"

"Sure," said Hagrid with a smile as he tried to hide his crossed fingers behind his back.

"Maybe you're right." Sibyll sat up straighter and gazed thoughtfully into the distance. "Perhaps, dear Albus has come to finally realize the importance foretelling the future could play in our upcoming struggle. And he wants to be sure that the next generation of wizards and witches is properly prepared to face that future with the armor of knowledge that I can provide. Perhaps, I've been worried for nothing. After all…he is leaving the advanced classes to me."

Hagrid nodded encouragingly. "Right…sounds like him."

Sibyll turned and threw her arms around the startled man and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek…what she could find of it through all that hair. She got to her feet with a smile and a rattle of beads. "Thank you, Hagrid. You've made me feel so much better. Better get going…so much to do to get ready for the new term, you know!" Then with a whirl of bright clothing, she was gone and Hagrid could hear her footsteps running back towards the castle.

The half-giant smiled a bemused smile to himself. "I sure hope Dumbledore knows what he's doin'" he murmured softly.


	38. Accidental Meeting

**Challenge # 44 The entire story needs to take place within the boundaries of the Forbidden Forest.**

**Title: Accidental Meeting**

**Rating: PG**

**Characters: Snape and McGonagall**

McGonagall ran swiftly through the trees, ignoring the limbs that tore at her hair and snagged her cloak. They were getting too close. Running away like this wasn't going to work. They were going to catch her as she tired, which she was beginning to.

When a root seemed to rise up out of the forest floor and grasp at her ankle, she went down on all fours, knocking the wind out of her and grazing her palms painfully. Once down on the ground anyway, she decided that now was the perfect time to transform. As she listened to the heavy footsteps crash through the undergrowth in her wake, she shrank down within herself and became the tabby.

For a moment, she was hopeful that they might not have been close enough to notice her transformation, but as she scampered off into the dim woods, she was disabused of that notion by the first words her pursuers uttered.

"We were right, it was McGonagall. She just became the damned cat."

"Well, don't let her get away. We could be in a lot of trouble."

The second voice was accompanied by a crackling sound and without warning a streak of crimson magic brushed by the fleeing cat's right ear to singe the fur and totally crisp the bush that she was passing.

The scared feline dodged hexes as she ran, plunging into any patch of thicker undergrowth that she could find along her way. Slowly, she began to outdistance her trackers as her fleet little feet began to eat up more ground than their larger and clumsier ones did. She was becoming exhausted though, and she knew that she didn't have the strength to outrun them all the way up to the castle. She needed a place to hide.

Suddenly a gully opened up under her feet, and she tumbled down an embankment trying not to yowl out her fear at the sudden precipitous drop. As she lay in a heap at the bottom of the small ravine, her chest heaving with exhaustion, strong hands seized her and lifted her up to cuddle her close to a black clad chest. Her first instinct was to hiss and claw, but recognition stilled her and filled her with relief. She wasn't alone.

Snape held the panting cat in his arms and frowned down at her in puzzlement, but as he opened his mouth to speak, his head jerked upright instead, and he went rigid as he listened to the crashing footsteps that suddenly broke through the foliage.

"Do you see her?" came the first voice.

"No, damn it, I don't."

"We have to find her. She can't tell anyone that she saw us here."

"Okay…okay…let's try that way."

The two men moved off, skirting the ravine and heading generally towards Hogwarts.

With a frown of concern and a comforting pat, Snape settled the tabby back down against the ground in a sheltering hollow next to the basket he'd been filling with plants for his potions and whispered, "Wait here." Then he climbed the ravine and vanished.

Naturally, McGonagall did nothing of the sort and immediately scrambled up the bank to follow, keeping well hidden in the close undergrowth. As she crept after the Potions master, her sharp little ears suddenly heard voices. He'd apparently confronted her pursuers, and they were talking together.

"…she saw us, and she can't be allowed to tell anyone that we were here," exclaimed an emphatic voice.

"Don't worry about that. I know a quicker way back to the castle. I can intercept her before she gets to Dumbledore and obliviate her. But really, all she knows is that she saw the two of you here in the woods. She didn't see what you were doing, did she?"

The two masked men glanced at each other and one of them shook his head. "No. There wasn't anything for her to see."

"What are you doing here so close to the school anyway, if I may ask? It's foolish to come here in broad daylight dressed as you are. Anyone would know that you were up to something just by looking at you." Snape waited patiently for an answer.

One of them began to reply. "We were sent by the Master. There was something that we had to do for him near…"

The second one elbowed his partner sharply. "It's none of your business, Snape. If the Master wanted you to know about it, he'd tell you. Now you need to go and take care of that snooping old biddy. The Master won't be pleased if she reveals our presence here too soon. You go do your job, and we'll go do ours."

Then both of the masked and cloaked men turned and vanished back into the darkness of the trees.

As Snape stood and watched them go, waiting to move until he could no longer hear them, McGonagall stepped up to join him. He turned and smirked knowingly at her. "I should've known you wouldn't stay in hiding."

"Did they tell you what they were up to?" She kept her voice low just in case they weren't completely out of earshot.

He shook his head regretfully. "No. Just that they were here on business for the Dark Lord. What did you see?" Snape eyed his companion curiously.

"Not much, unfortunately. I just stumbled on them as I was taking a shortcut back from the village. We need to tell Albus about this immediately."

"Yes," he agreed, and they turned together and began to head out of the forest. "Oh, by the way…consider yourself obliviated."

She smiled and glanced sideways at him. "I'll try to remember that."


	39. Shattered Lives

**Challenge 45: What happened to everyone ten years after the Fall of Voldemort?**

Title: Shattered Lives

Characters: Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore

Rating: PG

**Shattered Lives**

Minerva McGonagall stood at the window and sipped her morning tea as she stared out over the grounds of Hogwarts school. The day was brilliant and sunny, fragrant with blossoming flowers and the happy chirping of birds. So different than that day, ten years ago, that changed so much for so many.

This office with its lovely balcony and expansive view had been hers ever since that time, yet somehow it never quite felt as if she belonged here. Instead, she always felt that she was only filling in for the one who should have held tenure here for many more years than he did.

"What's the matter, my dear? You don't seem yourself this morning." A familiar voice called out to her softly.

She turned around with a sad smile, and setting her teacup down on her desk next to a roll of parchment, she crossed the room to stand before the tall impressive figure of Albus Dumbledore.

"It's a rather sad morning, Albus. I was just trying to prepare for the memorials that I'll have to be attending today…beginning with yours."

The man in the gilded frame smiled down on her and his blue eyes appeared to twinkle impishly though she knew it had to be a mere trick of the light.

"Well, if you're going to be eulogizing me for the umpteenth time…at least offer everyone a sweet first so they'll remember me kindly and possibly stay awake throughout the service."

She smiled to herself. "Fortunately, I don't think I'll have to be making any speeches today. There'll be far too many ceremonies that I'll have to attend though. First, there's the private one for you in the chapel here. Followed by the one that will take place on the grounds, commemorating the fallen in the place where so many died. Then there'll be the official, far more pompous one, that will be held at the Ministry of Magic.

Percy Weasley himself will be doing the honors there. Not that anyone would begrudge the Minister of Magic his say, especially having lost two brothers in the final battle, but he does tend to drone on so…and I find that my attention tends to wander rather badly whenever he speaks."

She sighed and reached out to caress the finely carved frame with restless fingers. "I received a note from Hermione Weasley just this morning, telling me that she and Ron will be at the memorial at the Ministry, but will have to forego the one here on the grounds, though Harry will attend, of course, he never misses. Seeing as she gave birth to twins only days ago, I'm a little surprised that she's going to attend any of them, but since the Ministry has practically become the family business, I suppose neither she, nor Ron, could beg off…even to attend to little Bill and Fred."

Minerva sighed and turned away from the painting of her dearly missed friend and walked slowly back to her desk. She reached for her teacup…hesitated…and then simply sat down and stared morosely into the fire instead.

"There were so many lives destroyed that day, Albus. No memorials could possibly do justice to the dead or comfort the living in the face of such utter waste. It appalls me still." Her voice rose in sudden anger "You shouldn't have died. Neither should Remus…or Hagrid…or Filius. Certainly none of those innocent children should have died. All to appease the utter greed and thirst for power of one horribly sick and twisted man. May he rot in hell forever."

Dumbledore's portrait looked down on her with a sad expression on his face and nodded. "No. Of course, you're right. No one who died that day, should have lost their life that way, but there was no true way to prevent it. And those who gave up their lives did so willingly so that many more could live the life that they deserved. They all deserve to be honored for that sacrifice."

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, they do…but not everyone who survived is living the life they deserve." Her eyes bright with unshed tears came up to meet his once more.

"Still no luck there?" His voice was quiet.

She shook her head. "No. With you dead, and so many others who knew the truth dead, or severely wounded, there wasn't anyway I was able to persuade the Ministry of the truth of the matter. Even with Harry's testimony, second hand as it was, the Ministry officials still steadfastly refused to listen. They won't even let me visit him any more. The official line is that all Death Eaters are to be kept securely under lock and key with no visitors and no privileges until they've all died. They don't care at all that they're punishing the innocent along with the guilty!"

The tears crept slowly down her cheeks. "I've failed in every attempt I've made to clear his name. They simply refuse to believe that Severus wasn't a loyal follower of that monster. No matter how much I plead with them, no matter what argument I use, all they can see is that mark on his arm. The mark that's apparently condemned him to Azkaban forever."


	40. Accidental Hero

**Challenge 45: What happened to everyone ten years after the Fall of Voldemort?**

Title: Accidental Hero

Rating: PG

Character: Neville Longbottom

**Accidental Hero**

Hermione turned to her companion as he stood nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Are you ready, Neville?" she asked in a bright voice.

The young man turned and looked at her somberly. "No. I hate these things, Hermione. Why do I always have to speak? Just because it's been ten years? Hasn't everyone heard it all before? Why go over it again?" With a nervous hunch of his shoulders, he turned back to face the backside of the curtain that the two of them stood behind. On the other side of the cloth he could hear the voice of Harry Potter, as he addressed the shifting crowds beyond.

As a cheer rose from the audience at something the Wizard-They-Wanted-To-Be-King said, Neville scowled and scuffed a toe against the wooden floor.

"Why didn't I let Harry take that final shot at…him? He was the one everyone wanted as a savior. Then he could have this stupid life…being petted and pawed at. Being trotted out at ceremonies of remembrance…kissing drooling kids. He already knew how to deal with all this stuff…had been expecting it for years. Just listen to him…"

He waved at the faded curtain. "They love him. They don't want to let him go."

Hermione sighed and crossed her arms. "They're only anticipating your arrival, Neville. Harry's just warming them up. They love you. Besides…Harry was already down. He'd have been mortally wounded if you hadn't stepped in to save everyone. You were the hero of the day, Neville. So naturally everyone wants to thank you for it." She beamed at the frowning man.

Neville stared at the floor. "I just feel more like an animal in a zoo than a hero."

He raised his head and stared at her seriously. "You know…I was just trying to find my way off the battlefield that day. I'd gotten all turned around in the haze. I could hardly see my hand in front of my face with all the smoke and rain and confusion. Heck, I'd just knocked Professor Snape out cold…accidentally, of course."

Hermione beamed. "Saved his life."

"Not on purpose," Neville muttered softly. Then he added in a louder tone, "And everyone seems to have forgotten that I accidentally hexed Lupin and Tonks as they were making their move."

Hermione shrugged and reached over to straighten Neville's robe. "Don't slouch, Neville. You're getting all wrinkled." The young wizard sighed but submitted to the fussing with a long suffering air. Hermione always fussed. He supposed it was what publicists always did.

As she was smoothing out the worrisome wrinkles, she smiled back at him. "Besides…a few reassembling charms had the two of them straightened out in no time. And they were as good as new. Better, in fact, did you know that after that little…incident…Lupin could turn his fur blue every full moon? I do believe he's taller now, too." She mused.

Neville sighed, but Hermione was determined.

"Really, Neville your…moving…around the battlefield saved many lives that day. You should be proud. You saved my life, too, you know. You're a true hero."

Neville looked surprised. "You've never mentioned that. How did I save your life?"

Hermione looked embarrassed, but she'd brought it up so she soldiered on. "Do you remember when Malfoy hit you with that "Tarantallegra Charm", and you couldn't stop dancing?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, how could I forget. I hate that charm. I spent most of the battle twirling around and hopping up and down like a puppet with a madman at the strings."

"Well, you kept firing your wand randomly. A brilliant move, by the way. It kept everyone off balance."

"Not as if I could control it," Neville muttered in disgust.

"Well, you took out several Death Eaters that way…okay, you did manage to hit a few of those on our side, too…but both Hagrid and McGonagall survived just fine, and Flitwick hardly limps at all anymore…and one of your strikes split open the ground right in front of me. Falling into that hole sent Lucius Malfoy's curse right over my head. It was much easier to fight from the cover of a foxhole, too. Honest Neville, you were the most dangerous person on the battlefield that day. You deserve all the accolades that anyone could give you. Now, Harry's wrapping it up…are you ready?"

Neville swallowed and turned towards the curtain as it parted and a sea of faces were staring straight at him… No…he was never ready for this nightmare…

Suddenly he found himself sitting bolt upright in the middle of a dark room…his heart pounding like someone was mining it for gold.

Next to him, his wife rolled over and looked up at him sleepily. "What's wrong, Neville? Nightmare?"

He swallowed hard and looked down at her. "Harry Potter killed Voldemort, right? He's the one going around making speeches and kissing babies and getting rich, right?"

Luna leaned up on an elbow and stared in confusion at her husband. "Last I knew, yes."

Neville sighed in relief. "Right. All's well that ends well, I guess." Then he lay down and drifted contentedly back to sleep.


	41. Dark and Luscious

Challenge #46 Lust 

Title: Dark and Luscious

Rating: PG

Characters: Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall

**Dark and Luscious**

Minerva McGonagall paced back and forth in her chambers. It was getting awfully late, where was that man? He promised that he'd come. He knew how much it meant to her, and he promised. So where was he?

She flung herself down in a chair by the hearth and stared into the dancing flames; restless fingers drumming on the armrest. Then she jumped to her feet again and crossed to the windows, parting the draperies and peering out into the darkness beyond. How much longer would she have to wait? Ordinarily, this wouldn't be a problem at all. Merely something she desired, but could certainly do without. However, for some strange reason, today, it was all she'd been able to think about…for hours on end. She had to have it…now.

She'd dreamed about it during her last class of the day. Had actually lost her train of thought several times. She'd even entertained several notions of how she might work it into her lesson, but fortunately, she'd come to her senses without embarrassing herself too greatly. Yet all through dinner, it had been all she'd wanted. Certainly nothing on the menu had been any suitable substitute.

As soon as everyone had begun to leave the Great Hall after the meal was finished, she'd managed to corner Severus in a darkened hallway and gotten him to promise to assist her in fulfilling her desires. Oh, yes, he'd smirked at her. Whispered in her ear about her lack of self-control, but she didn't care. She was shameless…he promised her he'd come, and that was all she'd needed to hear.

Flinging the draperies closed against the cold windowpanes with a stab of annoyance, she turned and retraced her steps back to the fireplace. So where was the man? Surely it shouldn't take him that long to get what he needed and come up to her rooms? He was quick enough when he was the one who wanted something, after all.

As a sharp and somewhat furtive knock sounded on her door, she sighed with relief and flew to answer it. In one fluid motion she opened the door and pulled the Potions master inside. As she looked expectantly at him, he smirked and crossed his arms to lean back against the wall and raise a taunting eyebrow.

"Well?" she demanded.

A slow smile crossed his lips. "What no greeting? Hello, Severus. Thank you for coming, Severus. So nice to see you, Severus."

She rolled her eyes. "Really, Severus, you can be such a child sometimes."

A scowl darkened his features. "Well…we can dispense with the greetings if you wish, but I assure you that insulting me is not the way to get what you want."

She pursed her lips and took a breath through her nose, releasing it slowly. "I apologise. It was kind of you to agreed to satisfy my sudden craving, Severus. I truly appreciate it." Slowly she moved closer and laid a hand on his arm.

He smiled slowly once more. "That's better." He un-crossed his arms and let them swing to his sides, as her hand slid from his arm and began to move purposely across his chest and down to his hips.

"I know you have pockets hidden in these clothes…which one is it in?"

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, all right. Honestly, Minerva, you're the one behaving like a child, you know."

With that, he slid a hand inside his robe and removed a gold foil wrapped square, two inches by two inches. Slowly he held it out to her, and watched with amusement as she snatched it from his palm.

"Is this all you brought?" she asked plaintively.

He shrugged. "It was all I had left. Between the two of us, my supply has been severely depleted lately. I will try to get more this weekend if you wish, although I do think it's probably your turn."

"Oh, yes," she sighed happily as she unwrapped the thick square of sinfully smooth dark chocolate and took a large satisfying bite. Slowly, she wandered back across to the fireside and sank into a chair with an expression of utter bliss on her face. "Oh, thank you, Severus. Honeydukes makes the very best chocolate in the world. I'm in your debt."

The Potions master crossed to stand behind her chair and looked down at her. "Oh yes," he murmured softly. "Which is exactly the way I prefer it."


	42. When You Walk Through A Storm

**Challenge #47: The Amnesia Challenge. Someone forgets something important.**

**Title: When You Walk Through a Storm…"**

**Rating: PG**

**Pairing: RL/HG**

Remus stood at the window and watched the rain fall in sheets from a sky composed of angry gray clouds, to roil and flow through the streets below. Tears of the heavens washing the wounds of a bitter populace. Now that it was over…would it simply begin again? Would history merely reset itself into a period of temporary calm as a prelude to more pain and violence? He was very much afraid that it would.

A gentle hand touched his sleeve, and he composed his expression hurriedly, and turned to face the one who'd somehow managed to enter the room without his awareness. He must have really been preoccupied even more than he'd thought.

"Good morning, Hermione. Did you sleep well?" he asked softly.

"Until I realized that you were gone," she answered equally softly.

He sighed. "I'm sorry. What happened yesterday must've affected me more than I thought it had. After all, I spent years dealing with that type of hatred and prejudice. I don't know why that one angry shopkeeper should have bothered me so much. Perhaps because it's a symptom of so much that still seems barely hidden beneath the surface. Even after the destruction of Voldemort."

She sighed as well and leaned comfortingly against him as he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. "I know. But we just have to have faith, Remus. It hasn't been that long. People are coming out of their hiding places, and their grief. They've buried their dead, and now they're beginning to look forward to the future. Things will be all right now. This was one isolated incident. One person. In general, things have improved tremendously. The Ministry has repealed all the werewolf restrictions, and the register has been discontinued. Things will only get better from here on out. You need to cheer up."

The sunshine of the smile that she gifted him with pushed back the rain with ease. He only wished that he could accept it as easily as she gave it. Her optimistic innocence, her faith that anything was possible, that there was always an answer, though tremendously appealing, often felt like a barrier that he could never truly cross.

"Will they? Will they really?" he murmured. "You don't know how much I'd like to believe that."

She reached up and caressed his face. "Then what's stopping you?"

"Experience…cynicism…the look in that man's eyes. There was so much hatred and destruction over the last few years. So much loss. So much death. That has to leave a mark, deep down in the soul of every person touched by Voldemort and his evil. No matter how much they may want to reach out for the good, to aspire to a nobler purpose, when the moon is full once more and the darkness descends, the fear and hatred will still be there. That type of deep seated fear and prejudice will linger beneath the heart of even the most noble of creatures for a very long time."

"Then it's up to us to see that it gets exposed to the light of day. Evil only wins if the good allow it."

He raised an eyebrow, and she blushed.

"Okay…maybe that's a bit trite, but really, if we keep on fighting to have the society we need to have, we'll get there. Look how far we've come already. Voldemort's gone. The Death Eaters are all in prison. Their ideas have been discredited. We're moving forward. Sure there'll be a little back sliding, but we just have to keep fighting."

With a sad smile he ran a gentle finger down the side of her cheek as he stared into her shining, determined face. "I hope you're right. I'm just not sure that I have the energy left for any more fighting."

"Oh, of course you do," she said with a smile. "You've just forgotten something important."

"What's that?"

She slid her arms around his neck and pulled his face down to her as she whispered against his lips. "You've forgotten what it's like not to be alone, and it's up to me to see that you remember."


	43. Serendipity

**Challenge # 49...the morning after challenge…**

**Title: Serendipity**

**Rating: PG-13**

**Pairing: SS/MM**

Author's Note: I used this challenge to write up what would have been the start of Severus and Minerva's arrangement from "Truth Beyond Memory".

Snape groaned and forced his eyes to open. They focused very slowly on the underside of the canopy draping his bed. It appeared to be moving, but then, so did the air in front of it which somehow had a slightly translucent look to it. He must have had too much to drink. That was the only thing that produced this particular, slightly uncomfortable, feeling.

What had brought that on though? Usually he was much more careful with his liquor consumption, and why couldn't he manage to get a deep breath. It felt as if a heavy weight was pressing down on his chest. He lowered his eyes and painfully brought them into focus once more.

Well, that explained that. There was a heavy weight on his chest. No wonder he couldn't breathe properly. The question now was…who was it, who was draped over his body like a blanket? Correction. Who was it, who was draped across his completely naked body? He spared a glance for himself. Yes, not a stitch of clothing on either of them.

Definitely female… dark hair… Only one way to find out for sure.

He shifted his weight a bit and tried to slide himself out from under the sleeping woman who currently rested across his torso. However, as he moved…so did she.

With a faint moan, the woman extended her slender arms and pushed herself up off of his body. Draping him in a lush and fragrant curtain of silky black hair and presenting an alluring pair of breasts for his very close perusal. He was momentarily distracted by this enticing sight before remembering his quest for the identity of his "guest". He raised his bleary eyes up to find himself staring into the obviously shocked face of Minerva McGonagall.

Snape gasped in surprise and automatically jerked back. She did the same. Pulling off him with alacrity.

"Severus," she gasped. "What? How? Oh my god…"

Snape managed a weak sneer in return. "How pithy of you, Minerva. You seem to have ably summed up the situation in a very few words."

As she continued to sit and gape at him, he found his eyes unable to stay focused on her shocked and very red face and began to note with fascination the way that her blush flowed down across her body like a river of rose wine, tinting her breasts enticingly. When he forced his eyes to come up to meet hers once more, he found that he couldn't because she too was using the time to gaze in fascination at his unclothed body.

When she realized what she was doing, her blush deepened and she turned away from him and grabbed up the edge of the very rumpled sheet and held it up against herself with trembling hands.

Snape pulled himself up to a sitting position as well, and they both eyed each other uneasily.

"What happened?" whispered Minerva finally. "How did I end up here…with you? Do you remember? I'm…I'm not sure. It's rather fuzzy."

Memory of the night before was beginning to return to Snape as he stared at her in this unfamiliar state. Fragments of very interesting, and surprisingly enjoyable, memories were popping into his mind one after another like a series of rather racy oil paintings. They weren't in any particular order though. How it all came to pass still seemed a bit uncertain. The only thing that didn't seem uncertain at all was that he and Minerva had had quite a night together…and suddenly all he wanted to do was to continue to make more memories of the same sort…as soon as possible.

He squirmed a bit uncomfortably as his thoughts translated themselves into actions and his body began to show just how interested he actually was in continuing their previous activities.

Minerva's eyes widened as she couldn't help but notice, and she abruptly turned her head away with another soft moan.

"I'm not exactly sure how the two of us ended up here to be honest," Snape stated, to fill the uncomfortable silence. "I vaguely remember Albus' speech being even more tedious than usual this year. I must have imbibed a bit more than is customary for me. I'd guess that you did the same."

She nodded. "Yes. I…yes. That makes sense." She still refused to look at him though. Turning away slightly and presenting the long smooth curve of her backside. Not quite as interesting as the front view but definitely not bad.

"Do you remember anything about last night?" he asked cautiously.

There was a pause, then she nodded and risked a quick glance back at him. "Yes. More and more of it's coming back. It was…" She blushed once more. "Wonderful…though obviously highly inappropriate. I'm sorry…I shouldn't have…"

He reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder, letting it drift slowly down along the contour of her back. He felt her shiver beneath his touch, and he smiled to himself and slid a bit closer.

"I don't think there's anything that you need to apologise for Minerva. My memories of last night seem to correspond quite well with yours. It was…wonderful."

She nodded nervously. "Then, we can put this aside and simply chalk it up to a mutually enjoyable evening then."

"I don't see why not." His voice was agreeably low.

"Then I should be going."

She sighed with relief and began to glance around for her clothes when Snape continued, "I don't see why we need to put anything aside though."

That brought her face around to his quickly. "What do you mean?"

Snape shrugged casually and caressed her cheek lightly with the backs of his long fingers. "You enjoyed yourself, and so did I. Why shouldn't we continue to do so? The night is still fairly young, if I'm reading my clock right."

"You want to… again? With me?"

A short laugh of amusement cut through the air. "No, with the giant squid. Of course, with you, Minerva. Do you see any other naked woman in my bed?"

She simply stared at him in amazement.

"After all, we're both adults, aren't we? Well past the age of consent." He raised an eyebrow.

That brought a wry smile to her lips. "Oh, definitely…"

"Well, then…as far as I'm concerned, there's no reason for you to rush off…"

He leaned in and placed a warm hand on her cheek and kissed her. First softly, and then when she began to respond, with more passion.

The sheet fell away from her hand as it slid around his shoulder and drew him snuggly against her. Together they both lay back against the rumpled sheets, and as his lips began another close examination of her body, she murmured softly, "No…I guess there isn't…"


	44. Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are

Challenge # 51 Someone finds a hidden room 

**Title: Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are**

**Rating: PG**

**Character: Minerva McGonagall**

Something drew the Tabby down the long deserted corridor, though she wasn't sure just what. A feeling? A scent? Possible prey? Nothing felt quite right, but she simply knew that this was the way she had to go tonight, and being a creature of instinct…she followed her feelings.

Once down at the end of the dimly lit hall though, all she found was dust, and a curious line of small dead animal bones lying neatly against the far wall. Alarms went off in the Tabby's mind at the unnatural sight, so she gathered herself together and became the woman once more whose greater logic was needed to piece this puzzle together.

With a careful hand, Minerva reached out and touched one of the small skeletons and felt something sharp dig into her hand. Something searing enough to draw blood as well as cause pain. She pulled her hand back at once and got to her feet. Withdrawing her wand, she explored the blank expanse of wall in front of her, which defended its secrets so fiercely.

It didn't take her too long to determine that a very strong and ancient set of wards protected something here though they tried to hide their presence. Whatever that something was, it was sealed up tightly like the wrapped carcass of the unwary intruder on a web.

It took some effort to unravel the ancient lines of magic, but Minerva somehow felt, when she pulled on their strings, that when they did part, they did so almost with relief, tired of acting sentry after all these years.

Once the wards were gone, it took only the work of a few moments to find the hidden catch that opened the door so cunningly hidden in the well crafted stonework of the wall. As curious as she'd ever been, Minerva worked the catch and pulled open the door to reveal a small empty room. A stab of disappointment carved its quick way through her thoughts as she put aside the childish hope of treasure. Yet, the room wasn't completely empty.

A white mist seemed to pulse slightly as it floated slowly in the center of the dim space like a collection of dust motes spinning lazily in sunlight. These moved of their own accord and seemed to be responding to her presence and that of the torchlight from the corridor. Swiftly, they formed into the shimmering shape of a young girl dressed in a long white dress. The girl whirled around in a dance of delight and smiled at Minerva bringing an expression of horrified recognition to the shocked woman's face.

"Calliope! Is that you?" Minerva whispered hoarsely.

The spirit smiled and nodded then glided closer to hover inches from the doorway. "Yes. It's me. I knew you'd find me eventually. I always had faith in you, Minerva."

"Faith…" the appalled woman choked on the word. "Have you…have you been in here…all these years? Oh, my god…" Tears sprang to her eyes and began to flow down over trembling cheeks.

The ghost shook her head and extended a white hand that fell short of touching. "Don't cry, Minerva. It's all right. It wasn't your fault. I was the one who insisted on playing that game. You didn't want to…you always wanted to study instead." She made an affectionately exasperated face. "You were right though. I shouldn't have gone where I wasn't allowed…I should have been more careful."

"We looked for you for months, the entire school…I looked for years. Every time I'd hear a footstep behind me, I'd think of you, but it was always someone else. It was supposed to be a game, Calliope. Just a game of hide and seek…"

The ghost looked chagrined, "I know, but I hid too well. I'm sorry. I called and called, but the wards trap everything within…even sound…even spirits…"

Minerva wiped at her eyes. "You've been held here…you couldn't leave? Even after…" Her voice broke, and she couldn't say the words.

The white form glowed with warmth enveloping her grieving friend. "Not any more. Thanks to you. I'm free now, and I can leave as I was meant to, all those years ago. Don't be sad, Minerva. You saved me…you set me free. Thank you. I'll always remember you…my dear friend." The pale smiling image shifted back into a million brilliant sparkles then faded suddenly to nothing, and the pulsing vitality that the room had held vanished, leaving only the empty weight of time behind.

"No, Calliope…don't leave me..." Minerva stepped into the gloom of the dusty prison that had contained her friend for so long, but the presence was gone. All that was left was dust and dirt…and a small pile of decaying cloth and bone in the far corner.

The stunned witch took a few more steps and dropped to her knees, reaching out to touch the fragile fabric, which fell away beneath her fingertips.

"Oh, Calliope…How can I not be sad? I just lost you again…"


	45. Preparations Between Light and Dark

Challenge #51: Someone finds a hidden room… 

**Title: Preparations Between Light and Dark**

**Rating: PG**

**Character: Remus Lupin**

The slender man in brown made his way slowly through the silent graveyard. The cold wind ruffled his hair, and he pulled the collar of his threadbare jacket closer around his neck. Eyeing the ball of fire that brushed the horizon, he picked up his step, crunching quickly through a whispering fall of brittle leaves.

A squat stone building came into his view rather suddenly as he walked around the corner of a particularly garish stone angel, and he turned his steps towards its iron banded door. When he reached the ancient mausoleum, he fished a large skeleton key from his pocket and fitted it into the rusted lock. With a squeal of protest that he swore could be heard for miles in the silence of the cemetery, it opened, and he removed the heavy square of metal and pulled open the weathered wooden door.

With a final look at the fading light of the outside world, he stepped inside the house of death. A simple charm lit a hanging lamp and dim yellowish light illuminated a cold and silent room. He glanced around as a matter of course, but it didn't seem as if anything had changed since he was here a month ago. With a sigh of resignation, he turned back to the rectangle of daylight and cast his usual assortment of repelling charms around the structure. Then with a final yearning glance at the world of the living, he shut the door firmly and locked himself into the world of the dead.

Carefully, he added a layer of protective wards to the inside of the small square room followed by a strong silencing charm. No sense in alarming the locals any more than they already were by the creepy reputation of the old burial ground. Howls in the dead of night might keep some away, but there were always one or two that simply had to investigate, simply to show their bravery, and their foolishness.

Once he'd finished his preparations, he gave another deep sigh. Step one completed. Now for step two. He loosened his collar with an absent hand. At least he was out of the bitter wind now. Tonight there'd be a frost. Its harbinger lingered in the smell and feel of the air.

He crossed to the center of the room and knelt down on the gray flat stones, ignoring the coffins that were sealed into their niches along the sides of the room. Fortunately, they didn't seem to mind sharing their sanctuary with the likes of him, and he was grateful. When he was constantly on the move finding a secure place to be once a month wasn't always easy, and this one had worked well for him so far.

With agile fingers, he felt around the edge of the large stone in the center of the floor. Once he'd located the proper place, he stuck his wand into the small indentation in the stone and cast a levitation spell. The stone rose silently and hovered over a large square of darkness. The air that flowed up from its depths was damp and earthy…thick with the residue of past life.

The man sat gingerly on the edge of the hole letting his long legs dangle down into the darkness as he conjured up a handful of blue flames. The pit beneath him seemed as empty and silent as on all his previous trips, so with a small shiver, he slid off the edge and down into the earth.

The impact with the hard packed floor below caused a slight ache in his knees, which were no longer as forgiving of such jarring as they once were. He straightened up and glanced around the small dark chamber with its polished sarcophagus standing silent in the center. He'd always wondered why this grave alone amongst all those here didn't have a stone or plaque to mark the resting place of its occupant, but that secret wasn't likely to be revealed to him, and he didn't feel it was his place to pry. He'd been allowed to share this forbidding place of secrecy with its silent occupant and somehow that was enough. Whoever was buried here hid a truth from the world, and that was something he could relate to very well.

Swiftly, because he could already feel the rising of the hackles on his neck that heralded what was to come, he dropped the heavy stone back into its place above his head, and stripped down to nothing but cold skin. Once he was naked, he folded his clothing carefully and laid it on top of the sarcophagus. He conjured more blue flames to burn at either side of this pile of clothing like an offering to the humanity he was about to forsake, and added his wand to the pile.

As the first ripples of transformation began to curl their way through his guts, he lay down on the cold dark earth and gave himself up to the pain.


	46. Friday Nights

Challenge # 52: Gluttony 

**Title: Friday Nights**

**Rating: PG**

**Characters: The Marauders**

Remus Lupin sat at the Gryffindor table and methodically worked his way through dinner. He was on at least his third helping of just about everything when Sirius Black threw himself down next to him and exclaimed, " Hey, Remus. It's Friday night…you know what that means, right?"

Black nudged the werewolf sharply in the ribs and wriggled his eyebrows in what he no doubt thought a very sophisticated manner, but since only one of them twitched, all it really did was make him look as if he had a tic.

"Yeah, Sirius, I know," Remus responded softly, as he reached for the bowl of roasted potatoes. He knew all right. Yet another night on the lumpy couch in the common room, that's what.

"Heh, good. Thanks pal. I owe you." Sirius smirked. The dark haired young man frowned at the bowl of chicken that Remus was reaching for. "How can you eat that stuff? Yuk…"

Before Remus could answer, James Potter sauntered up with his arm flung casually around the neck of his pretty girlfriend, Lily Evans, and Sirius turned in his seat to greet them.

"Hey, James…Lily. You got a busy evening planned?"

Lily blushed and James just smiled. "Oh, nothing that I imagine you aren't planning on yourself, Sirius," he responded smugly.

Lily kissed James on the cheek and told him that she was going back down the table to talk to one of her girlfriends and to pick her up when he wanted to leave. He gave her a quick hug and let her go, watching with admiring eyes as she walked quickly back down the table to sit down next to an attractive brunette, who immediately began to whisper in her ear in an intense way.

Then James turned back to Sirius and Remus. "Hey, did you see Snivellus?"

Remus reached for the bowl of sausages.

Sirius turned and shot a curious glance across the quickly emptying dining room at the Slytherin table. "No, what's he up to?"

"I saw him leaving with Melinda Timms…that tall blonde Ravenclaw. You know the one." James' tone implied that everyone knew the one.

Sirius' eyebrows rose together this time. "Really? What the heck would she want with Snivellus?"

James laughed. "What do you think? I never thought of her as the desperate type, but I guess you just can't tell about some people."

Remus looked up from the drumstick he was tearing to pieces. "Maybe they're just going to study. They're partners in Advanced Potions class, after all."

Sirius and James both looked at him incredulously for a moment and then they both burst into loud laughter at the same time. "Right…tell me another one!"

As the two Gryffindors were still chuckling helplessly, two attractive girls walked up to them, and one of them leaned down and slid her arms around Sirius' neck causing him to stop laughing in order to smile happily up at her. "Are you ready, Sirius?" she asked with a knowing smile. Giving Remus a quick wink, which implied that she was only asking to be polite.

Remus began to fill his plate once more.

Sirius stood up with a smirk and slid an arm around the waist of each of the girls. "I certainly am, Linda…Maris. See you guys, later," he called over his shoulder as he walked off with a girl cuddling him on either side.

James chuckled and turned to see Lily looking back at him, and when she caught his eye, she raised an eyebrow…much more expertly than Sirius had.

The eager young wizard jumped to his feet and thumped Remus on the back. "See you later, Remus. I'd better get going."

Remus nodded. His mouth was too full to answer…not that there was a need. James had already left, and Remus watched as he reclaimed Lily and the two of them followed Sirius and his ladies out of the room.

Just then, Peter came flying in and over to the table, throwing himself into a chair and grabbing at the chicken legs.

Remus watched with amusement. "What's the rush, Peter? We've got all evening."

Peter looked up from shoveling food down his throat as quickly as possible. "Oh…sorry, Remus. I meant to tell you. I can't hang out tonight. I've got a date." The chubby boy's cheeks reddened, and he wiped his mouth hurriedly with a napkin as he got back to his feet. "I just had time to grab a quick dinner, then I'm supposed to meet her in Greenhouse One. She loves plants." He grinned. "Wish me luck." With a quick wave, he ran back out the way he'd come.

Remus stared after him in surprise. Oh, yeah…he loved Friday nights. With a sigh, he stared back down at his currently empty plate, then he reached for a fresh platter of lamb chops.


	47. Here Kitty, Kitty

**Challenge # 53 The Familiar Tail Challenge**

**Write a story about someone's familiar.**

Title: Here, Kitty, Kitty…

Rating: PG

Pairings: None

Author's Note: The original plot bunny belonged to scatteredlogic. She was kind enough to let me play with it. :)

**Here, Kitty, Kitty…**

The child hummed happily to herself as she played with the cute kitty. Such a lovely little thing, and she had no collar or tag so she must not belong to anyone…until now. When the first year had come to Hogwarts, a month ago, her parents hadn't been able to afford to buy a pet for her to bring with her. Now, she'd managed to find one all on her own.

A minor frown crossed her face as she remembered. No, they didn't call them pets here. They called them familiars though no one had been willing to explain what the difference was. She sighed. Would she ever get it all straight in her mind? Magic was turning out to be so much more complicated than she'd thought it would be.

At least, now that she'd found the kitty, she wouldn't be as lonely. Now, she'd have something of her very own to love. At that happy thought, the girl pulled the Tabby into her arms once more and gave her a big hug.

The cat yowled out its displeasure at being squeezed so tightly and squirmed around in the first year's arms seeking escape, but there didn't seem to be any. The girl had been very careful to tie a strong black cord around the cat's neck and secure it to the leg of a chair in the Charms classroom where she'd managed to corner the stray after a spirited chase. Now, with a happy sigh, the girl went back to work tying narrow yellow ribbons into the Tabby's lovely plush fur.

"What shall I call you?" she asked the Tabby as she worked.

The cat gave her a glare from her black framed eyes and meowed rather indignantly.

"I know. I shall call you Mrs. Puddipaws. There was a kitty in one of my favorite bedtime stories with that name. It'll be perfect. You'll like that, won't you? And we'll be best friends forever and ever."

Finishing up the last bow, she gathered the cat into her arms once more totally oblivious to the angry expression on her furry little face. Faced with yet another bone crushing squeeze, the Tabby, howled even louder than before and twisted around to bat roughly at the girl's face with claws carefully sheathed.

Just then the door to the classroom opened, and the girl swiveled around on the floor to look up and up at the fearsome black form of the Potions master as he loomed menacingly in the doorway.

"What is all the noise coming from in here? When class isn't in session, students are not to be in the classrooms without permission. Do you have Professor Flitwick's permission to be in his classroom, Miss…Hilbert?" His icy tone of voice drove the ability to speak clear out of the girl's mind, and she jumped to her feet in fear completely forgetting that her cat's neck was tied to the nearby desk.

As she stood, the black cord tightened and almost pulled the Tabby out of her arms. She grabbed for the strangling cat and dropped back to her knees, scrambling to untie the animal from the desk as she did so. Then she scooped the ball of rumpled fur up into her arms and turned back to face the Potions master once more.

"Well, Miss Hilbert? Are you going to answer me or are you going to continue to toy with that animal instead? Ten points from Hufflepuff…shall we try for twenty?"

The girl shook her head. "No, Professor Snape," she said in a small and whispery voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't know I shouldn't be in here outside of class time. I just found this kitty, and we were playing."

"Playing. Is that what you call it?…" Snape's voice drifted off as he took a good look at the furious animal that was being tightly held in the girl's arms. It couldn't be? Could it?

With a curious expression on his face, the Potions master moved closer to the nervous girl, causing her to back up an involuntary step and squeeze her captive even tighter. The Tabby yowled pitifully and turned a pleading face towards the tall man in black.

Snape's eyes gleamed. "You say you found this cat? She doesn't belong to you?"

The girl shook her head sorrowfully. "Yes, sir. No, sir…she didn't have a collar though so I thought that if she didn't belong to anyone else, maybe I could keep her."

Her hopeful look was firmly squashed by the man's next words. "Not every familiar will have a collar. Collars and tags are much more common amongst Muggles." The edge of disdain in Snape's voice caused the girl's heart to drop into her shoes. "Most witches and wizards can manage their animals without having to resort to such mundane means of identification. This particular animal happens to be mine, actually."

The girl's face lost all of its color. "Oh," she whispered softly. Then she stepped forward and reluctantly dumped the Tabby into Snape's arms. "I'm sorry. I wouldn't have tried to take her if I'd realized that she belonged to anyone."

Snape straightened up as the cat settled into his arms with a sense of relief. He held her securely and turned back to the woeful Miss Hilbert, giving the girl a stiff nod.

"I would suggest that you leave any animals that you find within the school alone. I would wager that almost all of them belong to someone. Now, surely you have somewhere that you are supposed to be, and do not let me catch you in the empty classrooms again or you'll be serving detention with me." The girl nodded and slid around the tall forbidding form on her way to the door, then, with a final longing look at the cat, vanished into the corridor.

Once the girl was gone, Snape picked apart the knot that held the black cord tightly around the Tabby's neck and set the cat down on the floor, highly amused at the raft of yellow ribbons that adorned various tufts of her fur.

"Why on earth didn't you simply transform, Minerva? Wouldn't that have been the sensible course of action?" he asked the cat with a smile of amusement.

The cat hurled him an annoyed look and turned and headed for the door as quickly as possible. Just as she reached it, it slammed shut in her face, and though she clawed at it angrily, it wouldn't open for her paws.

"Oh, no. You aren't leaving until I get an answer," drawled the Potions master from behind her. "By the way, I love the ribbons…yellow suits you."

With a frustrated hiss, the Tabby turned and ran back towards the tall wizard moving around behind him. When he turned to keep her in sight, she just kept moving, yowling at him loudly. It finally dawned on him why she kept trying to get behind him, and he stopped and stood still waiting to see what would happen next.

As he figured, once she was out of his sight, she transformed and suddenly he could feel two hands settling onto his shoulders keeping him from turning around.

"What happened, Minerva? Did you tire of teaching and decide that being someone's pet would be a nice career change?"

"Very funny. Give me your robe." Her highly disgruntled voice demanded.

"My robe? This is so sudden. Shouldn't there be flowers or candy exchanged first?" He smirked as he tried to get a glance at her. If she needed his robe then what she was wearing…or more likely…not wearing, must be worth a look.

Before he could manage to see anything though, he was faced with her naked arm thrust over his shoulder instead, the hand waiting for the requested item.

"Your robe, Severus. Now." That tone of voice took him straight back into her classroom.

Without another word, he removed his robe and held it up. She snatched it from his hand, and he could hear the sounds of the slick material sliding over her skin.

Then without another word, a furious Minerva McGonagall brushed by him on her way to the classroom door apparently wearing nothing but his robe and an assortment of oddly placed narrow yellow ribbons in her wildly disarranged hair.

"Really, Minerva, you can't leave me without an explanation for this," he called after her.

She paused in the doorway and glared at him over her spectacles. "I will return your robe to you later, Severus. I have a Poltergeist to murder first." With that, she whirled around and, clutching the flimsy fabric around her as best she could, she vanished up the hallway.

Snape crossed to the doorway and watched her stalk away with a smirk on his face. "I can hardly wait to hear the explanation for this one," he murmured softly.


	48. A Child is Born

**Challenge # 54: The Gift of Memory Challenge Someone gets a pensieve for Christmas containing a single memory.**

**Title: A Child is Born**

**Rating: G**

**Character: Neville Longbottom**

Falling head first into a swirling pool was a bit disorienting, and for a moment, he wasn't sure exactly where he was. Then he recognized the huge clock in the hallway with its fancy gold hands and odd sounding tick, and realized that the air was full of the homey comforting smell of beeswax and lemon. Yes, he was definitely home, though there was a differentness to it. It wasn't quite the home he was familiar with. Before he could begin to isolate what didn't seem the same, he heard Uncle Algie's excited voice coming from the front parlor.

"They're here, they're here. Come on," he called eagerly.

His uncle's round figure rushed out of the room down the hall from where Neville was standing and went to open the front door. Two women suddenly came out of the kitchen behind him and sped past, on their way down the narrow hallway towards the front door that had now been opened to admit a smiling couple carrying a very precious bundle.

Everyone crowded around and made happy noises. Which was a trifle annoying because they blocked his view completely. As he struggled to see exactly what was happening, the people at the door were whisked out of the dimness of the hallway and into the front parlor, while he was left to trail curiously along behind, beginning to understand…hoping he was right.

He stopped in the doorway of the small warm room and watched the gathering with a tightening of his throat.

With summer sunlight dappling her hair, a smiling woman with a round, sweet face now sat in the middle of the old chesterfield by the bow window. A tall smiling man sat next to her, watching avidly, with pride and love filling his eyes. His Gran, his Great Uncle Alfie, and his Great Auntie Enid clustered around them, and every eye in the room was focused on what the woman on the sofa held so carefully in her arms. It was a baby; a chubby cooing little bundle with a soft covering of down on his mostly bald head.

Neville's throat tightened even more, and he found himself creeping forward inch by inch, his gaze never leaving the faces of his proud parents as they stared with eyes brimming with love at the miracle of their son.

"Isn't he lovely?" asked his Mum in a soft happy voice. "The nurses at hospital swore they'd never seen a sweeter little boy." She raised her eyes from her son and stared lovingly into those of her husband, who smiled back with an equal amount of love.

Neville's Gran smiled indulgently at her son and his wife and nodded. "Yes, Alice dear, he certainly is. May I hold him?" Her face looked wistful and happy…not at all the way he was used to seeing her.

"Oh, yes, of course," Alice Longbottom exclaimed happily. Then she shifted to the side to make room on the sofa for the older woman who sat down and reached out to take the precious child into her arms.

With shining eyes, she looked up from the baby who now rested comfortably in her secure embrace. "Have you chosen a name for him yet?" she asked.

Alice turned to Frank and flashed a smile at him, but allowed him to answer. He smiled happily first at his wife and then at his mother. "Yes, we have. We're going to call him Neville…after Dad."

Uncle Alfie and Aunt Enid nodded and smiled and his Gran's eyes filled up with tears. "Oh, Frank," she whispered softly. "That would have made your father so happy." Then she turned back to the infant in her arms and smiled down at him. "Welcome to the family, Neville. We've been waiting a long time for you. I know you're going to make us all very proud."

With difficulty, Neville pulled his face back out of the stone bowl and looked up at his Gran with shining eyes.

Her eyes too were glistening and rather red rimmed. Briskly, she blew her nose, nodded stiffly, and got to her feet. "Merry Christmas, Neville," she said in a rather tight voice.

Neville smiled up at her and nodded back. "Merry Christmas, Gran…thank you."


	49. A Reflection Out of Time

**Challenge #58 The Magic Mirror Challenge Someone does something with a mirror…**

**Title: A Reflection Out of Time**

**Rating: PG**

**Characters: Snape, McGonagall, OFC**

**Author's Note: This piece is preceded in time by the following piece "Into the Mirror".**

Snape stared out through the wrong side of the mirror in amazement at the oddly dressed man who now stood where he himself had stood a moment before.

The man looked first at his hands as if he'd never seen them before and then looked earnestly back into the mirror.

"I'm free…oh, Great Merlin, I'm finally free. It's been so long. I don't know who you are…I didn't recognize you, but I promise I won't abandon you as I was abandoned…I'll find help…I'll…I'll…oh…"

Without warning, he put a hand to his head and staggered back away from the mirror. Then he screamed as if he was in agony, and his body seemed to shrivel up. In mere moments he'd gone from a vital young man to a desiccated corpse lying on the floor a few feet from the front of the mirror.

Snape watched the entire transformation with an expression of horror on his face. What the hell had just happened? He'd been bored so he'd decided to explore the lowest level of the castle where he'd found this cozy little room near the end of a collapsed corridor. It hadn't had anything in it except this elaborate iron framed mirror. All he could think of was the Mirror of Erised, but it had clearly not been that hated object so he'd thought it worth taking a look. In fact, it now appeared to be something much worse.

The Potions master slammed his hands against the glass in front of him. It had no effect at all, except to make his hands ache from the impact. He turned and looked behind him. He was in a small featureless white room no larger than a fairly small closet. Thank god he wasn't claustrophobic.

Impatiently, he flicked his arm and brought his wand to hand, turned abruptly, and cast a shattering hex at the glass. He could worry about bad luck later, once he got out of this trap. Nothing happened. With a frown, he looked down at his wand. It looked all right, but it didn't feel right. There was no familiar feeling of warmth, of barely suppressed power that he always felt when he took his wand to hand. His magic was gone…or inhibited somehow by this trap. In either case, it wasn't going to help him escape.

So what did that leave him? Waiting for rescue? How likely was that? Who knows how long it had been since anyone had even ventured down here? The dust in this room was thicker than anywhere else he'd ever seen. Odds were good that that meant that not even the House Elves bothered to come down here. And why should they?

Damn. Slowly he sank to the floor and leaned back against the wall. Would anyone even notice he was gone? Surely they would. When he didn't show up for class tomorrow, they'd wonder. They'd have to. Would they search? Here? And if they did…what would they find? A mirror and a body that wasn't his. Oh, yes, that would tell them a lot.

How the hell had he ended up inside this thing anyway? He could remember coming close to the mirror. He'd been curious. Then when he'd been close enough to touch it, he'd felt a…compulsion to do so. Almost as if a voice in his mind had been urging him to touch the surface of the glass, and when he'd done so, he'd found himself here, and the strange man had appeared in his place. Had they switched places? Had he, whomever he'd been, been imprisoned in here?

It was a logical assumption. Perhaps the only way to get out of here was to switch places with someone else. Lovely. Too bad he wouldn't be able to pick his rescuer. Spending a few…days…in this place would certainly take some of the arrogance out of that insufferable brat Potter. Or even better…Lupin. This would be the perfect place to imprison that cursed werewolf. He could snarl and spit and throw himself at the glass all he wanted, but he couldn't do anyone harm but himself. An ideal solution. He almost smiled at the thought.

Oh, yes…please…let his rescuer be a Gryffindor.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Snape opened his eyes. He must have fallen asleep. Time moved so sluggishly in this place. He gasped as he noticed movement; someone was at the door to the room. Quickly, he got to his feet and stared through the glass. Oh, damn. For once, someone was listening as he made a wish, but naturally they just had to put a twist on it that he'd regret.

The prisoner of the mirror watched as Minerva McGonagall stepped into the room.

"Severus?" she called. "Are you here?" Sadly, she glanced around the apparently empty room. Tracks in the dust or not, it was just another dead end. She turned to go when her eyes fell on the body lying near the mirror. With a gasp of surprise, she ran quickly across the room, falling to her knees next to the still form. Carefully, she turned the dead man over and was aghast to find that the material of his clothing came apart in her hand.

As Snape watched, he found himself torn. Why did that man collapse and die once he'd been freed? Would that happen to him if he was let out? What if once you were imprisoned in here…you couldn't leave. His first thought had been that if someone changed places with him, he could go and get Albus and together they could probably free whoever was placed inside, but what if it didn't work that way? What if his fate had already been sealed the moment he'd been sucked through the glass?

Minerva suddenly looked up at the mirror and got to her feet. She stared deeply into the glass and Snape stared back. Slowly, she extended her hand.

Suddenly, without even knowing he was going to do it, he threw himself at the glass and yelled, "No! No, Minerva. Don't touch it! Don't touch it!"

With a gasp, she jerked her hand back and placed it to her temple. Shaking her head as if to clear it.

It worked. She obviously heard him. Quickly…before she tried again or worse yet… left. Another message…something simple.

"Break it! Break the mirror! Break it, Minerva!" He leaned against the glass and yelled as loudly as he could.

Minerva shook her head once more and took a step back. Her face registered confusion and alarm. Then he saw her look back at the body on the floor and back up to the mirror again…apparently making some decision. She glanced around her and not finding what she sought, she turned and left the room.

Snape's heart fell, but before he could give up hope, she was back carrying a heavy stone from the crumbling wall outside. As she marched across the room and threw the rock with all of her strength, Snape huddled down and covered his head, and was glad that he did.

There was a blinding flash and an explosion of glass followed by silence.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As Snape sat at his desk and stared into space, there came a knock on his door and a familiar voice called out a question, "Severus? Do you have a minute?"

He nodded and invited Minerva in. "Yes, but only a minute. Spending a week inside that blasted mirror has put me rather behind in my work."

She crossed the room to stand by his desk. "I thought you should know that we discovered the identity of the body."

A cold chill ran through him. "Oh? Who was he?"

"His name was Albert Grimsby. He once taught Arithmancy here at the school for a short time, before suddenly disappearing without a trace."

"Grimsby? The name isn't familiar. He must have been before my time…though he didn't look that old." Snape frowned up at her in puzzlement.

Minerva nodded and stared back with a haunted look in her eyes. "He was before all our times, Severus. Professor Grimsby taught here over 460 years ago."


	50. Into the Mirror

**Challenge # 58 The Magic Mirror Challenge Someone does something with a mirror.**

**Title: Into the Mirror**

**Rating: PG**

**Characters: Salazar Slytherin, OFC**

**Author's notes: This is a prequel to "A Reflection Out of Time"**

"Welcome back Aurelia," a smooth voice cut through the fog that bound her mind.

The young woman opened her eyes, shook her head to clear it and got slowly to her feet. A glance at her surroundings caused a moment of panic as she found herself in a small featureless room of white. One wall was a made of glass apparently, and outside the glass stood the tall man in green robes who had spoken her name.

"Salazar… What have you done? Where am I?" she asked in a trembling voice.

"Where you will stay unless you give in to me," came the haughty answer.

Anxiously, she pressed herself against the glass in front of her; it felt cool and very solid beneath her fingertips. She bent to search for her wand, but her captor's smug tones halted her and brought her attention back to his face.

The man held up her wand for her to see. "Looking for this? You cannot escape. That prison is more than a room, Aurelia, it's a trap that will hold you in its grasp for a 1000 years, if necessary. You cannot escape it, unless I let you out. Which, of course, I will be happy to do if you will simply stop being so stubborn and marry me as you once agreed to."

Sorrow crossed her aristocratic face, and the young woman tried to swallow back her sudden stab of fear. "I cannot marry you, Salazar. I told you that before. Your actions, as appalling as they are, change nothing. I've made up my mind. You only want me because you've decided that my bloodline is the most suitable for you to use in order to carry out your misguided theories about pureblood superiority. I won't be a party to your ravings, your selfishness and the pain it will cause. I don't know you any more. The man I once knew would never have done something like this."

"You've forced me to this extreme, Aurelia. You promised to be my wife then you changed your mind, pulled away from me, considered marrying another. I can't allow that. If you don't honor your original commitment to me, I will seal you into this mirror and keep you in there for all time."

He held up a crystal ball for her to see. The center of it glowed red and pulsed with the sound of his voice. "If I break this ball, you will be cut off from all contact. No one will ever know you were there even if you scream forever at the top of your voice. Then the only way out for you will be for someone else to take your place and be sealed in forever in your stead."

"How can you be so cruel to someone you say you love?" she asked quietly.

"It is because I love you that I do this. I will not be thwarted in my plans. So I ask you again…will you change your mind and marry me as you promised? I am warning you though, I will leave you in that prison if you refuse me. If I cannot have you then no one else will either."

She nodded sadly. "I know you would, Salazar, and that is why I must refuse you. I've loved you ever since I was a child. I looked up to you, admired you, but as I grew, I began to realize that I never truly knew you. Your views that say that only those, who through an accident of birth, are descended from a line of pure wizardry, are fit to flourish, have become more and more extreme over time. They will tear wizardkind apart if left to spread. I won't be a party to that. I won't bring another Slytherin into the world so that you can found a dynasty to rule over others."

Her hands trembled against the glass. "You once helped to found a school to help and guide and teach, yet now, even your friends, the other founders of this great school, disagree with your views. They all stand against you in this. You won't prevail in the end."

"I have ways of dealing with my friends," his voice infused the word with contempt.

"Listen to yourself!" she cried. "Do you hear what you're saying? You once stood beside them, worked with them. You helped to found this school to help all of wizardkind. Now all you'll do is destroy it. I don't understand what happened to you, Salazar, but I cannot aid you in achieving your aims. I won't. I'd rather die."

The dark wizard's hand shook ever so slightly as he raised the glowing ball in front of her face. "That is your final word on the subject?" he asked coldly. His eyes glowed oddly in the flickering torchlight.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, it is."

He stared at her for a moment as if memorizing her features for all time. Then with a fluid gesture, he smashed the globe of crystal into the stone floor.

The sheet of glass in front of her face shimmered slightly but otherwise remained unchanged to her eyes. Slytherin stared into the mirror for a long moment, then with an angry flurry of green material, he turned and marched out of the room without a backward glance, slamming the door behind him.

Aurelia's knees gave out beneath her, and she sank to the floor of her prison staring after him in silence before finally whispering softly, "Goodbye, Salazar."


	51. The Loveliest Possession

Challenge 59 The Bad News Challenge A HP character gets some bad news…

**Title: The Loveliest Possession**

**Rating: PG**

**Characters: Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy**

Narcissa pushed open the door to the mansion with a sigh of gratitude. What a day! She must have visited every upscale wizarding dress shop in London. Her feet were simply killing her, but it had all been worth it. She'd found the perfect dress to wear to Lucius' cousin's wedding next month. She knew that he'd want her to outshine every woman there, including the bride, and with this dress, she'd be sure to do it.

A smug smile graced her face as she glided across the foyer and began to mount the elegant staircase. She was so lucky to have married Lucius. Her eyes caressed the gleaming dark oak of the balustrade and the glittering crystals of the chandelier as her feet sunk into the deep plush carpet of the oriental runner that lined the stairs. All this luxury was hers now.

Her life was a round of social events attended by only the cream of wizarding society. She'd want for nothing for the rest of her life. And she had the most gorgeous, more powerful man as her husband. So much nicer than that ghoul that Bellatrix had married or that pathetic muggle-born joke of a wizard that Andromeda had saddled herself with. All that remained to seal her place permanently as the queen of the Malfoy dynasty was to provide her charming husband with an heir, and with Lucius' demanding ways in the bedchamber, that was only a matter of time.

Life was indeed perfect, a wonderful fantasy from which she hoped she'd never awaken. Humming a happy little tune to herself, she wandered down the hallway towards her room. The house-elves should have already left her packages in her boudoir, and she could pick through them at her leisure. Right now she could really use a little refreshment. Perhaps once she got to her rooms she'd have a nice hot bath and a cup of tea with a few of those little cakes that Dobby was so good at making.

A faint noise, issuing from her husband's room as she passed it, turned her head in surprise. Was that Lucius? If so, he was certainly home early. He'd told her that he wouldn't be home until much later, in fact, he'd encouraged her to spend the entire afternoon in town, but there was only so much time that any one person could take wandering the shops in high heeled shoes. She couldn't expect him to realize that, of course.

Well, wouldn't he be surprised to find her home early, too. A seductive smile crossed her lovely face. Perhaps they could spend a little time together working on that heir…

Happily, she crossed the hall, her feet making no sound on the plush carpet, and she opened the door to Lucius' room and stepped inside eager to see her adored husband. "Lucius. Is that you?" she called out eagerly.

The smile froze on her lips as her husband raised his blond head from the body of a buxom brunette who lay sprawled wantonly across the top of his wildly disarrayed bed. His handsome face lost its smug smile and froze into a mask of displeasure as his cold eyes met hers in a moment of shocked realization.

"Oh, my, god…" she whispered brokenly. "How could you?"

Hastily she backed out of the room and turned to flee down the corridor towards her own room only to be stopped in her tracks by his commanding voice calling out her name.

Slowly, she turned around to see her husband, now attired in a dark blue robe, come out of his bedroom and carefully close the door behind him before approaching her.

As he came closer, she moved backwards until her back came to rest against the corridor wall.

"You're home early, Narcissa. How unfortunate," he stated casually, with an unrepentant expression on his face.

His complete lack of remorse at having been caught in such a situation appalled, crushed, and infuriated her, all at the same time. As he caught up to her, she swung back her hand and tried to slap him sharply across his face.

"You bastard!" she shrieked.

With a snarl, he deftly caught her wrist in his strong hand and twisted her arm up behind her body pulling her sharply against him.

"Never raise a hand to me, Narcissa. I really thought that you'd know better than that."

She whimpered slightly in pain as he twisted her wrist more cruelly. "You're hurting me," she gasped.

He raised his free hand and ran a long manicured finger slowly down the side of her face. "Good. Then you'll be more likely to listen to what I have to say. I had hoped that this wouldn't come as such a shock to you, but I suppose it's really past time for you to lose those rose colored glasses that you view the world through. You're such an innocent in some ways, my dear. I used to find that charming, but now…it's merely tedious."

"I'm your wife…" she began.

"Yes, my dear, you are," he cut her off sharply. "And that gives you a privileged position in my life, but it doesn't give you the right to ever dictate to me…in any way. Do you understand? I am the lord and master of this house and all the lovely possessions in it, of which, you are, of course, the loveliest."

His voice lowered menacingly. "However, if you intend to remain…lovely…and wish to continue to live your comfortable life here in this house as Mrs. Lucius Malfoy, then you will have to learn to keep to your place. If I choose to add some variety to my life in the bedroom, then you, as my obedient wife will understand that and look the other way. Have I made myself clear?"

Her eyes glittered through her tears. "And if I choose to do the same?"

The hand that had been caressing her cheek suddenly fastened tightly around her throat and squeezed. "Then that will be the last choice that you ever make."

Abruptly he thrust her away from him, and she sank to her knees gasping for breath and massaging her bruised throat with a shaking hand.

"Now, go see to my dinner. I've worked up quite an appetite this afternoon, and I wish to dine early." Then with a final sneer at his cowering wife, Lucius Malfoy turned and disappeared back into his bedroom.


	52. If You're Going To Kiss Me

Challenge 60: The Quidditch Stands Challenge Two characters have a conversation in, behind, or under the Quidditch stands.

Title: **If You're Going to Kiss Me…**

Rating: PG

Pairing: MM/SS

Snape caught up to McGonagall just as she reached the bottom step of the Quidditch stands and pulled her aside back under the stands themselves where they could have a little more privacy.

He held out his hand and smirked. "Where are my five Galleons, Minerva? Gryffindor played like a bunch of blind men with repelling charms on their hands."

McGonagall frowned, placed her hands on her hips and leaned in towards her colleague. "Insulting my students won't get you your money, Severus," she exclaimed with annoyance.

A frown creased his forehead. "They lost with one of the largest point spreads in recent memory. How do you think they played?"

"No matter how badly they played, that doesn't give you the right to abuse them," she huffed.

He leaned in closer as well. "Telling the truth cannot be considered to be abusing them. At least not by any reasonable standard."

Her eyes snapped. "Are you calling me unreasonable?"

Raising an eyebrow he glared back at her. "Apparently, I am…now, where is my money?"

Thoughts of grabbing her poor excuse for a Quidditch team, upending them and shaking them vigorously for pocket change flitted through McGonagall's mind as she frowned into Snape's snapping dark eyes. "In the bank, Severus, where it always is, you'll just have to wait until I can get to town to retrieve it."

His eyebrows lowered like sudden storm clouds, and he stepped right up against her. "Whenever our places are reversed, you're always right there with your hand out as soon as the players hit the ground and head for the locker room, and haven't I always paid up when asked? I expect the same courtesy from you. It was simple arrogance on your part to assume that your precious Potter and his mangy friends couldn't possibly lose. When you make a wager, Minerva, you are supposed to have the ability to make good on it immediately!"

A slight feeling of dizzy claustrophobia engulfed McGonagall as Snape leaned against her in the confines of the cramped space. His face loomed huge in her vision, and her focus fell on his nose, which, while never inconsiderable, seemed to have ballooned to frightening proportions at such close range. There seemed to be only two possibilities as it poked at her mere millimeters from her own…either she could bite it…or…

Snape drew back with an audible gasp. His pale face registered his utter shock.

"You kissed me!" he stammered incredulously.

She smirked at his frozen expression of disbelief. A point for her! Served him right for thinking that he could use his greater height and nastier scowl to intimidate her into submission.

The two of them simply stood there for a moment. McGonagall with a smirk of satisfaction on her lips and Snape with eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

Then just as suddenly, the tables were turned again as he reached out and grasped her firmly by the arms, pulling her body roughly against his chest as he lowered his face to hers and kissed her hard. Once she recovered slightly from the intense shock of this turn of events, McGonagall's hands slid up over Snape's back and pulled him more firmly against her as she enthusiastically returned what was probably the best kiss she'd received in years.

When he finally released her, and they locked eyes once more, the smirk of satisfaction now resided on Snape's lips. Before she could gather her wits enough to say anything, he murmured, "If you're going to kiss me, Minerva…do a proper job of it next time. I'll expect my money no later than this afternoon. I'd advise you not to disappoint me."

Then he turned abruptly and stalked out from under the shelter of the stands and out of her sight.

Pressing a hand to her chest to try to still her rapidly beating heart, McGonagall leaned back against the wall and exhaled a rather ragged breath. That was certainly a surprise. An exciting one, though, she had to admit. A mild frown settled on her face as her mind began to belatedly process his final words. What had he meant when he'd said…"do a proper job of it…next time"?

A slow smile spread across her face, and she straightened up and began to head back to the castle. If she hurried, there might still be time to get to the bank before it closed for the day. She wouldn't want to disappoint Severus…now would she?


	53. Racing the Moon

**Challenge # 62: The Broken Wand Challenge** Someone's wand gets broken, the circumstances involved are up to you.

**Title: Racing the Moon**

Rating: PG-13 

The cold wind cut through her torn clothing and caused her teeth to chatter though she tried to clench her jaw and stop them. Her whole body was beginning to feel like a block of ice, and the fine control that was necessary to keep her jaw from shaking was apparently beyond her at the moment.

Somehow, she kept herself going. It wasn't easy as she could feel the blood seeping from a dozen different wounds, adding to the swift cooling of her body and the increasing difficulty that she was having in making herself continue to move. All she wanted to do was sink to the ground, to curl around herself and close her eyes. Just for a moment. Just long enough to catch her breath…to get warm. But she still retained enough awareness to know that if she did as she so longed to do, it would be the last action she ever took.

The night had begun so innocently. It had been ages since she'd gone for a run outside the castle in her feline form, and with the full moon illuminating the landscape so invitingly, she hadn't been able to resist it. It had called to her when she stood on her balcony and watched it sparkle in the trees as it rose into the darkened sky, and she listened…and gave in.

How foolish to have forgotten that other creatures might be tempted out to run in its dazzling brilliance as well. When the dog pack had caught her scent, she'd been concerned but confident that she could elude them. She was smaller and more agile. Certainly she was smarter than they, more fleet of foot. When the chase had begun in earnest, her confidence had ebbed, and when they'd cornered her unexpectedly, she'd abruptly reverted to her true form hoping that the sudden change from cornered cat to fully armed woman would send them on their way or at least keep them at bay for long enough for her to escape. It hadn't worked out that way though.

The change probably did startle them, but they'd been so infuriated by that point that it hadn't done more than momentarily slow them down. As she'd drawn her wand and begun to defend herself, one of the largest beasts had snapped it from her hand breaking it in two and releasing a sharp rush of magic that had mercifully scared the creature off. Confused, several of its smaller fellows had followed, and somehow, she'd managed to scare off the rest with bursts of bright blue flames. One of the few bits of wandless magic that she'd managed to master over the years.

Chagrined at the loss of her wand, she'd pocketed the pieces and started to limp her way towards home not realizing at that point how badly she'd really been injured. As the rush of adrenaline left her, she began to understand that the footprints that she left behind her on her way back across the meadow were dark with more than dirt kicked up beneath her feet. She was bleeding badly, and suddenly her exciting run through the grasslands in the hills beyond the castle became a race of a different sort. Could she make it home before she collapsed from loss of blood? Before the dogs overcame their fright and returned to finish off their weakened prey? Before something worse smelled the coppery scent of blood on the chill night air?

At last, the door to the castle swam into soft focus before her tired eyes. Almost there. The hard, round cobbles of the ancient courtyard made walking difficult for her unsteady feet, but she persevered. Vision faded in and out. The door loomed huge in her sight, but never seemed to get any nearer. Finally, cold, hard steps banged against her shins causing sharp pains to travel up her weary legs, and she fell to her knees and felt grit and stone beneath her scrabbling fingers and scraped cheek. She reached out for the home that was almost within her grasp.

Warmth began to creep through her tired limbs…the cold seemed to have finally left her…her searching fingers grazed wood, nails catching on the rough surface…dark shadows moved in yellow light and caressed her face with pale, loving fingers…warm breath gasped out soft words…a name. Darkness enveloped her…


	54. Suddenly While Sneaking

**Challenge #67 Caught!** Someone within Hogwarts discovers Snape returning from a Death Eater's meeting wearing his robes and mask.

**Title: Suddenly While Sneaking**

**Rating: PG**

Things had not gone well…not well at all. Snape began to realize that his injuries were more extensive than he'd first thought, and now that he was finally nearing his quarters, he could feel the fatigue and dizziness that blood loss brought on, taking hold. At least, at this time of night, the back dungeon corridors were always empty.

Just as that comforting thought ran through his tired brain, he limped around a corner and came face to face with a student, and not just any student either, if there was one student in the entire school that he did not want to run into while dressed as a Death Eater it was the one who always had a camera in his hand and made a habit of using it at the most awkward moment possible.

A brilliant flash momentarily blinded Snape as his ears were assaulted by a high pitched voice shrieking, "Oh, my, god! Oh, my, god! Death Eaters at Hogwarts!"

Instinctively, he pulled the mask from his face to rub his dazzled eyes, and realized as he did so that that had to be the most stupid move he could make as the voice got even more shrill and began to croon, "OH, MY, GOD! Snape is a Death Eater! Snape is a Death Eater!"

For a shocked moment, Snape and Colin Creevey simply stared at each other with almost identical looks of horror on their faces, then instinct kicked in for both of them. Colin snapped another picture and turned and bolted down the corridor as if the very devil himself was at his heels, which wasn't much of an exaggeration as Snape flew after him as fast as his injured leg would let him move.

As he ran, Snape shed his cloak and bundled his mask inside it. He had no idea what he could do with it at the moment, but continuing to wear it would definitely be a mistake. Right now, there was only one thought in his mind…silence Creevey, one way or the other. He knew which way he'd prefer…

They weaved through endless corridors of stone, and by the time they reached the staircase up to the ground floor, Snape was losing ground in his chase. His injuries were sapping his energy at an alarming rate, and that obnoxious little Gryffindor was simply far too fast. The only saving grace to come from the speed of their flight was that Creevey was now concentrating all his energy on moving and was no longer shrieking damning pronouncements at the top of his lungs.

Colin almost missed the staircase when he came to it, not being nearly as familiar with the dungeons as Snape was. He skidded past the opening and then had to backtrack a bit before running up the steps as fast as he could. This allowed Snape to catch up some more, but even though he stretched out his arm full length, the little brat's robes remained just beyond his fingertips.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Colin gave a mighty scream as he ran full tilt into his Head of House, who grabbed him roughly by the shoulders in order to stop them both from going down in a heap.

"What on earth are you doing running around the castle like a madman, Mr. Creevey! You should have been in bed hours ago," she exclaimed heatedly. Getting run over by out-of-bed students at this hour didn't put her in a pleasant frame of mind, especially when the student in question belonged to her own House and thus ought to know better.

As Colin opened his mouth to answer her, Snape came flying out of the stairway opening and skidded to a stop mere inches from the two Gryffindors. His face was flushed with exertion and a tiny trickle of blood painted a small jagged line down across his left cheek.

McGonagall gasped sharply at his appearance and looked back down at her student who had scuttled around her and was now taking refuge behind her robes.

"He's a Death Eater! He's a Death Eater! He's a Death Eater!" Colin squeaked in a fortunately extremely breathless voice. "I saw him. He has a mask and everything. Please, you've got to protect me."

Snape and McGonagall exchanged frantic glances, then Snape took a deep breath and casually dropped his bundle back down inside the stairwell.

McGonagall's lips thinned, and she dragged the trembling Colin out from behind her back and addressed him sternly. "Nonsense, Mr. Creevey. You're letting your imagination run away with you. No matter what you thought you saw, I can assure you that Professor Snape isn't a Death Eater. The dungeon is full of shadows at this time of night, and they can play tricks on your eyesight. Now, you owe him an apology."

Creevey threw Snape a terrified glance and shook his head, ready to plead his case. "No, I know what I saw. I have proof! I took a picture." Desperately, he held up his camera.

McGonagall reached out and took the camera into her hand for a moment, then she let it drop back down to hang on the small boy's chest.

"Mr. Creevey, you're overwrought. Now, apologize to Professor Snape this instant, as I told you to, or I'll be forced to take House points from you. You're already in trouble for being out of bed at this hour. Don't make things worse."

Creevey's jaw dropped open, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. Once he developed his pictures, she'd have to listen to him, in the meantime, if getting safely out of here meant apologizing to Severus Snape, then apologize he would. Swallowing back his fear, he turned around to face the Potions master, and knew no more.

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"You need to take better charge of your students, Minerva," Snape growled as they made their way slowly towards the infirmary. "That idiot boy should never have been prowling around the dungeon at night. This whole mess could have been avoided if you'd simply exerted more control."

McGonagall snorted testily. "This whole mess could have been avoided if you'd just taken your mask off before entering the school. Really, Severus, I'd have thought you knew better than that after all this time," she snapped as she adjusted her grip on him.

With an indignant huff, he pulled back away from her in order to answer, and swayed dangerously before she caught him and held him against her for a moment while he recovered from his momentary spell of dizziness. His shaking hand on her shoulder left blood behind when he removed it.

"We can argue about this later," she whispered worriedly. "Right now, we need to get you to Poppy, before anything else happens."

Reluctantly, Snape nodded and took a step forward with her help, then turned abruptly to face her once more. "His camera!" he exclaimed in sudden remembrance.

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Colin Creevey stood in the darkroom with his camera in his hand and a thoughtful look on his face. Why couldn't he remember what he'd done tonight? He knew he'd gone down to the dungeons for some reason, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember why. He had his camera with him, though. Surely he used it. Maybe if he developed the film, the pictures would jog his memory.

Carefully, he opened the back of the camera and then yelped in surprise and dropped it to the floor as dozens of tiny baby snakes wriggled out of the inside. Obviously, someone had played a nasty joke on him. Now, if he only had the slightest idea who…or why.


	55. Unexpectedly

Challenge # 18 The Polyjuice Challenge Someone uses Polyjuice for something.

**Title: Unexpectedly**

**Rating: PG-13**

Minerva stood on the cliff by the lake in the hopes of catching a bit of the scant breeze that ruffled the treetops so faintly but stirred the bushes not at all. Obviously, she'd have been better to go up to the top of the tallest tower instead. She'd hoped that it might be a trifle cooler down by the water, but it wasn't, and she'd definitely be better off inside. No wonder she rarely came back here in July, but it had made more sense to come here than to go home between conferences, so here she stood and sweltered.

Pulling the material of her lightweight gown away from her bosom, she let it fall back with a slight puff of air. Yes, she'd be much better off on the top of the Astronomy tower, she decided, despite all those stairs. So she turned slowly, and with the help of the cane that she wanted to do without but still could not, headed back towards the castle.

As she moved through the secluded gardens, heading for one of the back doors to the castle, she suddenly heard a slight rustling in the bushes. She paused and stared into the darkness trying to penetrate the gloom and discern what had made the noise. But all was silent now, so she continued on her way with a slight frown of uneasiness.

When she stepped away from the gardens and onto the gravel path that led up to the North door, suddenly a hand grasped her from behind and yanked the cane from her hand as a wand was jammed up under her throat. A familiar but totally unexpected voice hissed sharply in her ear.

"I'd been wondering how best to overcome the wards and get inside this mausoleum of Dumbledore's, and then you wander along at just the right time and provide me with the key. How delightful."

Minerva gasped and turned her head to catch a glimpse of her attacker. "Lucius Malfoy?" she exclaimed.

"Surprised to see me, aren't you, Professor?" Malfoy sneered as he spun her around and pulled her tightly against him, his wand still threateningly jammed under her chin.

"You should be in Azkaban," she exclaimed.

"Yes, well, the truth is that I should be at home with my feet up and a glass of fine cognac in my hand, but life does take some unexpected twists, doesn't it?" Malfoy stated angrily.

"How did you escape?" she asked as she took note of his highly disreputable state. His once shining hair was filthy and his clothing, which was little more than rags, clung awkwardly to a much too thin frame. What an amazing difference even a few weeks of incarceration could make. If it hadn't been for his arrogant manner and distinctive voice, she'd have barely recognized the man, so altered was he from the last time she saw him.

"That's none of your business," he snarled as he tightened his grip. "I'm here to see Dumbledore." His voice dropped dangerously as he uttered her friend's name.

"Why?" she asked warily.

"Why?" His tone rose incredulously. "If it wasn't for him and that nasty half-blood brat of his, I'd have never ended up in that hell hole of a prison. I've got a score to settle with him, and you're going to help me do it. Now…open that door, and let's go pay him a visit."

He shoved her roughly away from him and held his wand steadily at her head.

She staggered as she regained her balance and then simply straightened up and just stared at him. "Albus isn't here. He's at a conference in Spain at the moment," she stated calmly.

Malfoy laughed nastily. "Of course, you'd say that. Crucio!"

Minerva gasped as hot searing pain ripped through her body, and she crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Malfoy held the spell for a few endless moments as she writhed in front of him, then released her from her agony, letting her breathe again in shallow gasps and raise her head from the gravel walk to look up at him.

"I don't have the time to argue with you, McGonagall," he sneered. "Either you help me, or you feel more of my wand, but one way or the other, I'm getting into that castle tonight. I can't break through the wards alone, so what will it be."

"I won't help you," she said softly.

Immediately, he hauled back his foot and kicked her viciously in the shoulder sending her sprawling. Then he aimed his wand at her once more and yelled, "Crucio!" again.

As Minerva was engulfed in pain once more, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye.

A tall figure with a flowing white beard stepped out of the shadows and took aim at the desperate Malfoy, who caught sight of the movement at the last minute, but turned too late to aim at this new threat.

"Stupefy," a strong voice stated firmly.

Malfoy collapsed and lay sprawled awkwardly on the ground. Dumbledore approached and immediately bound the unconscious man with thick ropes extruded from his wand. Then he turned to the house-elf that appeared at his side and stared nervously down at the unconscious man. "Contact Kingley Shacklebolt, and turn Mr. Malfoy over to him, Dobby. Tell him I'll speak to him as soon as I can. I need to see to Professor McGonagall first."

As Dobby vanished to do his master's bidding, Dumbledore knelt down next to his Deputy and stroked her hair gently. "Relax Minerva. I'll get you up to the infirmary."

"Where did you come from? I thought you were gone…" she whispered softly as the darkness claimed her.

When she came to again, she was lying in a bed with Albus holding her hand and Poppy fussing over her like a small child.

"Welcome back, Minerva," Poppy said with a smile. "We were a bit worried about you, with these injuries on top of those you suffered at the end of the school year. But it looks as if you'll be all right now. I've got something that will help you get a bit more rest; I'll just be a tick." Poppy patted her hand and moved away towards her office.

Minerva turned her head weakly and looked up at the man holding her hand so tightly, with a soft smile. "Where did you come from, Albus? I thought you were in Spain. You shouldn't be back until next week. Though I'm certainly not complaining."

Dumbledore pressed a warm hand to her cheek. "We'll talk about it later, Minerva. I'm just glad that I was able to be there to help. You get some rest now." He squeezed her hand tightly and smiled fondly down at her. She smiled in return, and he straightened up as Poppy bustled back with a potion in her hand.

Leaving Minerva in her care, Dumbledore turned and left the infirmary quickly. Once outside the doors, he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes as a moment of disorientation swept over him. When it had passed, Snape looked down at his usual black clothing and with a sigh headed off to the dungeon as swiftly as he could. He needed another dose of Polyjuice before he faced Shacklebolt and saw to Lucius being put back where he belonged. It wouldn't do for him to see who'd really captured him, after all.


	56. Making An Impression

**Challenge # 81: The After Hours Challenge A couple is caught snogging in the greenhouse.**

**Title: Making an Impression **

**Rating: T **

**Characters: Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones, Severus Snape, and Minerva McGonagall**

Susan shifted closer to Neville and curled her hand around his. The greenhouses looked so different at night. Not nearly as welcoming and friendly as they did in the daytime with Professor Sprout smiling at everyone and all her classmates around her. But at least she wasn't alone; Neville was with her. He'd asked her if she wanted to take a walk, and even though being here in the darkness was a little scary, being with Neville here in the dark was exciting and new. He didn't even seem like Neville, but instead seemed different, exotic…taller.

As Susan's hand slipped into his, Neville's heart began to beat faster. He'd brought her here on an impulse, because this was a comfortable and familiar place, a place where he usually felt confident and sure. One of the few such places at Hogwarts, but now in the darkness, with her so close and her hand so warm and soft in his suddenly sweaty one, he wasn't quite as sure as he'd been in the castle.

He wanted to pull his hand away and wipe its palm against the side of his robes before she realized how nervous he was, but she'd grabbed his hand first, and he was afraid if he pulled it away she might think that he was doing it because he didn't want to hold her hand, and he did…a lot.

"Creepy here at night, isn't it?" whispered Susan softly as she moved a little closer so her shoulder pressed against his arm.

Taking a bold chance, Neville released her hand after giving it a reassuring squeeze and slipped his arm around her, pulling her into his chest. As she turned her face up to his in pleased surprise, her lips parted and inviting in the moonlight that bathed them both in silver amidst the shadows of the towering plants, Neville closed his eyes and brought his lips down to meet hers in a stunning show of bravery.

Just as her arms were tightening around him and her lips began to get cozy beneath his own, a sadly all to familiar voice snaked out of the darkness and stopped his heart in his chest with its amusedly superior tone.

"Well, well, what have we here? Lumos."

A light shown brightly in Neville's eyes, and he and Susan jumped apart as if they suddenly inhabited like magnetic poles.

Two sets of student eyes bulged fearfully in two very pale faces, as Snape crossed his arms across his black clad chest and smiled a very unpleasant smile.

"Oh, dear, have I rudely interrupted something…intimate?" His voice infused the final word with scathing doubt. "Were you by any chance attempting to give Miss Bones the benefit of your undoubtedly vast experience in the romance department, Mr. Longbottom? Showing her the finer points of kissing, perhaps? Well, don't let me stop you. Hogwarts is a place of learning, after all. Please, carry on…do enlighten us all."

Neville's heart seemed to stop beating entirely as every drop of blood in his body fell leadenly to his feet. Did Snape want him to kiss Susan again…in front of him? He risked a brief glance at Susan, but she seemed frozen in place, her saucer eyes staring at Snape as if she'd never seen him before and never wished to again, her cheeks flamed as red as her lovely hair.

"Well, Mr. Longbottom?" Snape's voice stabbed him viciously. "Nothing to say?"

"No, sir," whispered Neville softly.

"And you, Miss Bones? Is Mr. Longbottom as stirring a kisser as he is a conversationalist?"

Susan swallowed hard, not knowing what to say, she just stood there and wished that the plant by her side would suddenly swallow her down and end this nightmare.

"Hmmm…" Snape frowned and shook his head, continuing in a withering tone, "Somehow I don't think you managed to impress Miss Bones with your prowess, Longbottom. How surprising…"

As both students flushed madly, Snape continued in a louder tone of voice. "15 points from both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff for being in the greenhouses after hours against school rules. In addition, you will both serve a detention with Mr. Filch. I'll have him contact you with the details, I think he has some plumbing to clean out this week, perhaps he could use a couple of students who seem to have extra time on their hands and no clear idea just what they should and shouldn't be doing with it. Now get back to your dormitories immediately."

"Yes, sir," murmured Neville miserably, as Susan nodded and the two of them backed away, before turning and leaving the greenhouse as quickly as they could.

As they ran back across the lawn to the door of the castle, Neville tried to apologize to Susan for the abysmal failure of their walk. Why didn't things ever work out the way he envisioned them working?

"I'm sorry, Susan. I really thought the greenhouses would be empty. Snape's never been there before. I wonder why he was there tonight?"

Susan reached over and squeezed his hand reassuringly as she answered. "I don't know, but did you notice that his robe was misbuttoned, and there was a leaf in his hair?" Her eyes sparkled with interest.

Neville's mouth fell open. "Really?" He turned back to the distant greenhouses glittering in the cold moonlight. "That's odd…"

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As the door clicked firmly behind the scared students, Snape smiled in satisfaction. That had been fun, though not nearly as much fun as what the two of them had so rudely interrupted. As he was about to return to the warmth of the inner room of the greenhouse, his robes abruptly dissolved into a shower of rose petals that cascaded softly down over his skin to pool at his feet.

A quick gasp escaped his lips as a pair of warm hands slid around his suddenly naked body, one caressing his chest and toying with a nipple while the other slipped lightly down across the skin of his abdomen and began to stroke him gently with a practiced touch.

He moaned and threw back his head, enjoying the seductive sensations that spread through his body like the warmth from a fire.

"Perhaps you'd be willing to impress me with your prowess, Mr. Snape," whispered a quiet voice against his shoulder as lingering lips left a moist trail across the muscles of his upper back.

Sliding around in his lover's arms, he lowered his dark head to hers and answered softly against willing lips, "And will you take house points from me if I fail, Professor McGonagall?"

"Of course," she answered with a smile. "But you've never failed to impress me yet."


	57. It's My Turn, Damn It!

Challenge # 84: The Missing Challenge Something or someone escapes from captivity.

**SPOILERS FOR HBP**

Rating: K+

Author's notes: This is pushing the envelope of the challenge a bit.

**Title: It's My Turn, Damn It!**

"Oh, dear," whispered Minerva McGonagall as she lifted her head from the final page of the book she'd been reading and cast a furtive look across the staff room at the dark figure of Severus Snape, who was angrily drumming his long fingers on the arm of his chair and glowering in her direction.

Slowly closing the large book in her hands, she immediately hugged it to her chest and got to her feet.

Snape's head came up instantly, and he jumped to his feet as well, crossing to her side with a distance eating stride, his hand extended.

"It's about time, Minerva. You must be the slowest reader on the planet. Now give the book to me."

As he reached for it, she held it tighter and when his fingers curled around the edges of the book and tugged, the desired tome remained firmly clutched in Minerva's bony grasp.

"No!" she cried. "I…mean…wouldn't you rather be reading the latest issue of Potable Poisons Digest. I saw it waiting for you in your box. You know how much you always enjoy ripping the articles to shreds. Perhaps you should read that first."

Snape's brows drew together into a thick black line, and he tugged harder on the book.

"No, Minerva. It's my turn to read this book, and I don't wish to be distracted by journal articles. I've already had to wait until everyone else here had a go at it. As it is, I'm surprised that you didn't let Mrs. Norris read it before me. I should have just given up long ago and gone out to Flourish and Blotts and bought my own copy."

Flitwick looked up from his chess game with Pomona and offered helpfully. "Flourish and Blotts sold out at a bit past 12:30, Severus. If you hadn't pre-ordered, you'd have been out of luck, I'm afraid."

Snape shot a nasty glare at his diminutive colleague while giving yet another tug on the book that seemed to be cemented to Minerva's chest.

"I know that," he grunted through gritted teeth. "That's why I didn't waste my time. The damn book is sold out all over the wizarding world, but enough is enough! I've waited until everyone else in the castle has had a turn at it. It's bloody well my turn to read it now, so release it, Minerva, or you'll wish you had!" He turned back and glared threateningly at his colleague once more.

Minerva turned pleading eyes to the chess players. "Filius, Pomona…please, help me, here."

The two exchanged reluctant glances and then Flitwick slowly got to his feet and walked over to stand near the struggling couple. "I'm sorry, Minerva. It is Severus' turn. He's really been quite patient, but I do think you're going to have to let him read it now. We can't mold ourselves to the new reality until everyone has a had a chance, you know."

"Oh, but Filius…you've read it. You know…" Minerva's voice trailed off.

Flitwick patted her arm consolingly. "Yes, yes, my dear, I know, but we can't keep it from him forever. Just relax your fingers and let it go…"

Minerva gave up, and Snape snatched the book with such force that he staggered back off balance for several paces, narrowly avoiding landing on his rear in a heap. At the last moment, he caught himself, straightened up with a sense of deeply injured dignity and cast a haughty look down his nose at the Transfigurations teacher.

"About time. You didn't really think you could hold this book hostage forever, did you? I have as much right to read it as you do. I need to be prepared for my new role. From the way you're acting, I must come out on top rather well, too. Am I to assume that the House cup will belong to Slytherin once more?" He raised a taunting eyebrow, but Minerva just stood there and looked gloomy.

"Not exactly," she said.

"Hmpf…well, we'll just have to see, won't we." With that pronouncement, Snape slipped the book under his arm and swept from the room, his robes billowing triumphantly around him.

Minerva shook her head mournfully as she watched the door click shut behind Snape.

"I did my best, Filius."

Flitwick nodded his head in sympathy until the attention of both professors was abruptly caught by the loud and unladylike snort emitted by Pomona Sprout as she sat at the chessboard with her arms crossed and a smirk on her broad friendly face.

"You did a fine job, Minerva, but we couldn't hold him off forever," she exclaimed. "Severus has never had such a meaty role in any of the other books. His part in this one is substantial. No more counting his lines on one hand for him. I should be so lucky. Now that he's the star of the book, sharing billing with young Harry, he's bound to be insufferable. We might as well just get used to it."

Minerva nodded gloomily. "Oh, I know, Pomona, why do you think I arranged it so that Severus would be the last one to read it? I figured that the rest of us deserved a small amount of grace time before we had to put up with the strutting about the stage of the newly anointed Half-Blood Prince."


	58. Eyes of a Stranger

Challenge # 91: The Knockturn Alley Challenge: Two people meet unexpectedly in Knockturn Alley

Title: Eyes of a Stranger

Characters: Hagrid, McGonagall, and Snape

**Eyes of a Stranger**

Minerva shivered slightly as she stood and listened to Hagrid arguing with the rather shady looking merchant at one side of the dirty narrow street. She hadn't wanted to come to Knockturn Alley. Even in good times, it was an area that made her uneasy, and her unease was certainly much higher now after all that had happened in the past couple of months. But none of them should be wandering around alone at the moment. Her experience in Hogsmeade a week earlier had shown her the folly of that, and since both she and Hagrid had errands to run in London, it just made sense for them to do them together.

Her eyes kept sliding away from her companion and roaming restlessly over her surroundings as she waited for him to finish his bargaining. The last thing she wanted was for either of them to be caught off guard in such a dismal and nasty place. Just as she glanced down between two buildings on her right, a familiar figure crossed the gap at the other end.

A jolt ran through her like a bolt of lightning. Had that been Severus? She glanced quickly towards Hagrid, but the groundskeeper was deeply immersed in his conversation and obviously hadn't noticed a thing. Thoughtfully, she turned back towards the narrow opening. Should she check and see? If it was him, shouldn't she at least try to see what he was up to? She hesitated for a moment longer, then, making up her mind, she tightened her grip on her wand and turned to walk quietly down the narrow passageway between the buildings.

When she reached the other end, she peered cautiously around the edge of the building to find herself outside an empty flagstone courtyard. Leading out of the small area was another narrow passage between the two facing buildings, a scarred wooden door that was firmly closed, and an archway that led into yet another smaller shadowy enclosure.

If he'd gone into the door, she wasn't about to follow. That would be foolish in the extreme when she was alone. It seemed to make sense to check out the archway first and, if he wasn't in there, to go and look down the other alleyway. So clasping her wand ever more tightly in nervous fingers, she inched her way over to the archway.

When she bent and peered carefully into the opening, a pale hand suddenly reached around her and jammed a wand up under her chin. As she jerked upright with a gasp, Snape's low voice demanded that she drop her wand.

When she didn't immediately do as he commanded, he jabbed his wand more painfully into the delicate flesh of her neck. Reluctantly responding to this wordless threat, she let her wand drop to the ground and stood there quietly waiting to see what he'd do next.

"What are you doing here, Minerva?" Snape hissed in her ear.

"Severus, I thought it was you," she stated softly, trying to keep any emotion from her tone. "Are you going to kill me, too?"

The wand beneath her chin wavered slightly at her words and then dropped away, as her captor took a step back away from her. His voice sounded tired when he addressed her again. "You shouldn't be here alone."

She turned around to face him. "I'm not alone." She extended her hand and pointed to one of the openings between the buildings. "Hagrid is right at the end of that passageway. He'd be here in a matter of moments if I call for him."

"Are you going to call for him?" he asked.

"Are you going to stop me if I do?" she asked in return.

They stared wordlessly at one another for a long moment, taking each other's measure, trying to read each other's intent. Minerva couldn't help noticing how horrid he looked. He'd always been thin and pale, but now he looked positively haggard. His hair was more unkempt than ever and there were deep dark hollows beneath his eyes that spoke of an exhaustion that penetrated to the bone.

"Why did you do it, Severus?" she whispered suddenly. That one question had burned most brightly in her heart ever since Albus had died, and she'd learned that Snape was responsible. It was a question that she never truly expected to have answered, because she never expected to have the chance to ask it. But now, against all odds, here she was face to face with him one more time. So she took her chance and waited.

He stiffened, and she saw the wand clutched tightly in his white knuckled hand tremble slightly. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he murmured softly in a voice that was strained and tight.

"Try me," she said simply.

His eyes narrowed and stared deeply into hers as she held her breath, waiting to see what he'd do. She hoped he could see her sincere desire to understand, but his own eyes, once so familiar and alive, were shuttered and blank.

For a moment they simply stood there unmoving, then, he seemed to reach a decision and it looked as if he was about to reply…as if she might just get her answer after all. But just as he opened his mouth to speak, there was a loud rustling from the alleyway behind her, and Hagrid's booming voice filled the enclosed space.

"Perfesser McGonagall! Where are you? Perfesser!"

Annoyed at Hagrid's horrendous timing, Minerva turned her head and glanced towards the sound of his voice. But when she turned back, Snape was gone. Involuntarily, she gasped and twisted around to see where he'd gone, but clearly he'd vanished. There was no point in looking any further. She wasn't going to find him.

Just then, Hagrid came barreling out of the opening that looked too narrow to have contained him. "There ya are, Perfessor. You shouldn't ought to go wanderin' around alone here. It's not safe," he stated firmly in a voice heavy with relief.

Minerva nodded in agreement. "I'm sorry, Hagrid. You're right. I should have said something before leaving you. I just…I thought I saw someone I recognized down here. That's all."

Hagrid frowned and looked around the empty space as if he'd somehow missed seeing another person. "Here? Did ya?"

Minerva shook her head sadly and bent to pick up her wand. "No. I was mistaken. It wasn't anyone I knew after all."


	59. Opportunity Lost

Challenge # 91: The Knockturn Alley Challenge: Two people meet unexpectedly in Knockturn Alley.

Title: Opportunity Lost

Characters: Snape and McGonagall

Author's Note: This is the same story as the preceding piece, "Eyes of a Stranger" told from the perspective of Snape.

**Opportunity Lost**

Snape moved cautiously through the back passages and narrow paths that made up the more hidden places of Knockturn Alley. Damn but being one of the most wanted men in wizarding Britain was exhausting. He never seemed to be able to catch his breath and feel really secure for long. Fortunately, he only had a bit further to go and then he could rest for awhile at least. Until something or someone else forced him to move again.

As he passed a narrow passageway that led up to the main thoroughfare, he glanced through it and saw her standing at the other end looking straight at him. Fortunately, he retained the presence of mind to keep moving. What the hell had possessed her to come here of all places? Hadn't she learned anything from her little encounter last week? Had he truly wasted his time after all?

He paused near the end of the passageway with a frown on his gaunt face. Would she come looking for him? A disgusted snort escaped his lips as they twisted into a parody of a smile. Of course she would. She never did buy into that old saying about curiosity killing the cat. Though she'd probably be much better off if she had.

Immediately, he cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and crossed the small space to press up against a nearby section of wall, wand in hand. Then he held his breath, stood as still as possible, and waited.

He hadn't long to wait before her face peered cautiously around the corner of the nearest building. Slowly she scanned the courtyard, her sharp eyes sliding right over his motionless form as he'd hoped that they would.

Carefully, she stepped into the courtyard and crept along the near wall to peer into the archway that led out of the open space into a sheltered dark area. As she leaned in for a closer look, he pushed himself away from his section of wall and moved silently up behind her. With a quick movement, he shoved his wand up beneath her chin and forced her back into a standing position.

When she didn't drop her wand immediately at his command, he pressed his wand harder against her throat. He didn't want to hurt her, but he certainly couldn't afford to be careless. Minerva was a strong and formidable woman and, with a pang, he realized that they were no longer allies.

"What are you doing here, Minerva?" he hissed in her ear.

"Severus, I thought it was you," her voice sounded wary and a bit sad to his ears. "Are you going to kill me, too?"

That simple question, honestly asked, sent a sharp jolt through his body and his wand trembled slightly in his hand. Kill her? He supposed he deserved that. Without answering, he released her and stepped back. "You shouldn't be here alone," he stated simply.

She turned around to face him. "I'm not alone." She extended her hand and pointed back to the opening she'd come out of. "Hagrid is right at the end of that passageway. He'd be here in a matter of moments if I call for him."

"Are you going to call for him?" he asked.

"Are you going to stop me if I do?" she asked in return.

He found himself staring into her eyes, trying to read her thoughts. Was she bluffing? Or was help really so close at hand? As he stared at her, he noticed how thin and pale she was looking. She seemed older and more careworn than when he'd last seen her. The past weeks hadn't been much kinder to her than they'd been to him apparently. But determination still shown from the firm set of her jaw and the sharpness of her eyes and the tall, straight way that she held herself.

"Why did you do it, Severus?" she whispered suddenly.

Though he'd been expecting the question, he still shivered slightly to hear it pass her lips. There was such pain in her voice.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." He shook his head with certainty. None of his former colleagues would believe anything he said now, and who could really blame them? Not that most of them had ever had much faith in anything that he'd said or done anyway. Bitterness twisted his lips slightly; he'd never been the most trusted member of their little group.

"Try me," she said simply.

For a moment, he considered it. If any of them would listen to him, it would be her. She'd always been fair and rational, not cloaked in the righteous piety that most Gryffindors wore like golden armor. She was leaving herself open to his probing; he could see her sincerity in her eyes… Should he take the chance? Would he get another?

He opened his mouth, not completely sure what he was going to say, when suddenly another familiar voice filled the air

"Perfesser McGonagall! Where are you? Perfesser!"

So she had been telling the truth. She wasn't alone. At least, his recent lesson had taught her something.

A look of extreme annoyance crossed Minerva's face, and she turned her head to glance back towards where, with the finesse of a bull elephant, Hagrid was obviously charging to the rescue.

The moment was lost, the mood broken. Perhaps it was for the best. He'd have probably regretted speaking anyway. She might be sincere in her desire to hear his explanation, but there were still no guarantees that she'd either believe or understand what he would tell her. Retreat was by far the wisest course. So while Minerva's attention was distracted, Snape accepted reality and quietly apparated away.


	60. Consequences

Challenge# 79: Describe it to Me. This challenge required writing a piece entirely with description. No dialogue at all.

Title: Consequences

Rating: G

Character: Minerva McGonagall

Notes: Spoilers for HBP

**Consequences **

With determined effort, Minerva pushed open the heavy wooden door to the school and stepped outside into the calm quiet air of early morning. The sun had crested the trees and turned the dew streaked lawn into a patch of glittering diamonds. Birdsong filled the air, accompanied by the droning of insects, and as she looked towards the forest around the castle's edge, she could see the treetops swaying gently in the soft morning breeze. A perfect beginning to a summer's day. There wasn't a cloud on the horizon, and the world felt full of the warmth of life. It wouldn't last, of course, but it was comforting and tranquil now, and it drew a smile from her lips.

Slowly, she descended the steps, grasping the material of her robes and lifting it up to avoid tripping on the rough stone. The heels of her sensible shoes clicked smartly against the cobbles of the courtyard as she crossed it with measured steps.

When she reached the edge of the lawn, she turned her eyes down to the lake that glimmered in the slanting sunlight. The white marble tomb that stood at its edge also glistened in the light. It was beautiful and peaceful to look at, but it still brought a tightening to her throat and moisture to her eyes.

Though she could see it from her window, and did every morning when she drew the drapes to begin her day, she hadn't visited it even once in the month since its creation. Now she felt it was time, probably past time, but she didn't expect that its occupant would hold it against her. He'd always believed that things happened as they should and she expected that he knew that she would come when she was ready and not before.

With a sigh, she took a breath and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. Lifting her head firmly, and grasping the bouquet of flowers in her hand a bit tighter, she began to cross the lawn, descending towards the lakeshore. The hem of her gown brushed gently against the grass, scraping the dew from its tips and leaving a darker swath behind her as she moved. The grass really should be cut back, but she hadn't had the heart to remind Hagrid that he needed to see to it. They were all doing the best they could.

When she reached the lake, she circled the tomb slowly, uneasy in her heart. When she came to the simple brass plaque that had been affixed to the side of the shining marble, she paused and ran a slightly trembling finger over the incised letters that spelled out his name. It was rather lengthy, and she smiled at the use of all his names and titles. Albus would have thought it rather silly and pretentious. But the Ministry wouldn't have felt that they'd properly done their duty towards this man who they'd never really understood, but could never truly discount, unless they'd made his final resting place as impressive and important as it was within their power to do.

Bending down, she laid the bouquet against the white marble wall, adding a spot of color to the shining stone. Then she rose and stepped back, blinking furiously again to contain the feeling that welled up inside her. She turned her eyes away and gazed out over the quiet green waters of the lake, watching a distant bird dive for a meal before soaring away with its prey clutched tightly in its talons. Her heart felt heavy with loss and a guilt that she couldn't shake.

If she hadn't sent Flitwick for Snape that fateful night, Albus would probably still be here with her. They wouldn't now be bereft of his guidance and wisdom…and help. Everyone had tried to dissuade her from believing this, of course, but deep in her heart she still harbored the doubt. So instead of having him here to rely on, she was now forced to assume his mantle herself and feeling inadequate to the task was perhaps her punishment for assuming too much… for trusting too deeply.


	61. Revising History

**Challenge # 93: The New Wand Challenge…someone buys a new wand.**

Title: Revising History

Rating: G

Character: Severus Snape

Spoilers for HBP 

**Revising History**

A stooped gray-haired wizard opened the door of the tidy little cottage and entered, closing it behind him with a snap. Once inside, he shed his rather threadbare cloak, hanging it neatly on a hook by the door, and straightened up. Muscles and bones cracked and protested as he forced them back into an upright posture. How did anyone manage to get through life shuffling along and peering up at people? It was both demeaning and painful. If that was old age, it was probably for the best that he was all too likely to die young, though hopefully not as young as some others would like.

With a sigh, the wizard extracted a wand from a pocket of his robe and removed the layers of charms that aged his face and hands, grayed his hair, and blurred his usual strong features. He grimaced as the layers of magic sloughed off of him like water from a bucket. Spells lasted longer than Polyjuice and were more generalized, but they lacked its elegance and simplicity, and he hated having to resort to their use.

Once he felt himself again, Snape crossed the room to a small table by the fireplace and carefully placed his wand on its surface. Then, he shoved a hand into another pocket and extracted a long narrow box, which he placed on the table next to his wand. He paused for a moment, reaching out and running a finger lightly down the polished wood as it shone in the firelight. It felt warm and secure to his touch, as it should. It was a shame that he had to give up using it, but necessity often required sacrifices. A frown crossed his face as he contemplated the rather bitter fact that he always seemed to be required to make more sacrifices than others did.

The chiming of a small golden clock encased in a bell jar caused him to raise his head, pulling him back from his reverie. His eyes slid around the cozy but sterile little room. It could belong to anyone. There wasn't a shred of personality to be seen anywhere, nothing like his parlor back at Spinner's End, but once again…necessity had forced his hand. Survival was a perilous game, one he might not win in the end, but one he'd certainly do his damnedest to stay ahead in for as long as possible.

Hence his shopping trip of the morning. He returned his attention to the table, and opened the small shabby box. Inside was a wand. Grasping it firmly, he removed it from its nest and held it up to the light. Superficially, it looked much like his own. The combination of wooden stock and magical core was identical to what he'd always used, but he could tell just by the feel of it in his hand that it was inferior to what he'd been used to.

He shrugged. Unfortunately, Ollivander was beyond his reach at the moment, and as annoying as the man was with his piercing gaze and offhand remarks that always seemed to imply more knowledge than he could possibly have, he did make the best wands. Beggars could not be choosers, though, and although choice had landed him in this situation…he'd certainly been a beggar in his time.

Waving the wand experimentally, he sent a wash of red magic sparkles into the air. It would do. It would have to. Setting it back down on the table, he picked up his own, more comfortable wand and crossed the room to a nearby wall. With the muttering of a few spells, a section of wall opened up revealing a small tidy cupboard into which he reluctantly laid his wand. Once the wand lay within, the cupboard, twisted in on itself and the wall sealed over as if it had never been opened at all.

Just because he couldn't use this wand right now, didn't mean that he shouldn't hope that circumstances would change in the future and allow him to reclaim it once again. It wouldn't do for anyone to have the chance to force the last spells from its core, though. Examining the spells he'd recently cast would be far too incriminating, and he wasn't so foolish as to allow evidence like that to be left where anyone could find it.

Returning to the table, he picked up the new wand and considered it carefully. He had a long afternoon ahead of him…casting the proper set of spells.


	62. A New Life

**Challenge # 43 Starting Something New… **

**Spoilers for HBP**

**A New Life**

Snape stood hunched over the corner of the bar and peered carefully out from under the edge of his hood with bloodshot eyes. The atmosphere was blue and gray with swirling smoke and warm bodies pressed much closer than he'd prefer in the crowded pub. Even though he hadn't been a fugitive for long, the experience was beginning to grate on his taut nerves.

With a sharp gesture, he upended his drink and drained it dry before placing the now empty glass down on the greasy surface of the bar with a thump. Time to turn in. Not that he'd get much sleep in the rat hole where he was currently residing even if he used silencing charms, which he didn't dare try regardless. Under the circumstances, he could hardly afford not to hear what might be coming his way.

Slowly, he wrapped his cloak a bit closer around himself, and turned away from the bar. Before he could take even one step towards the door though, he was confronted by a slightly swaying figure. The provocatively dressed woman smiled invitingly and laid a hand flat on his chest. As she leaned towards him, he was assaulted by the entwined aromas of stale beer and overpowering floral perfume.

"Evenin'," she purred in what she no doubt intended to be a seductive tone. "You look rather lonely. Care for some company?"

Instinctively, he took a step backwards, ramming the edge of the bar uncomfortably into the middle of his back as he did so. This was the very last thing he needed right now, and he summoned up one of his blackest scowls and released it in her direction.

"No. I have no need for company such as yours," he stated coldly.

Undaunted, and with a skin as thick as her coat of warpaint, the woman tossed her long black hair enticingly over her shoulder, not about to give up that easily. Instead of moving off, she sidled closer and slid her hand slowly up his chest to run a long finger lightly along the edge of his bristly jaw. "Don't be so quick to say no, lovey," she whispered in a husky voice. "I'm good at what I do. You'll enjoy your time with me, I guarantee it."

His eyes raked down over the thin gaudily painted face and on down to the abundant cleavage that swelled precariously from a bodice laced tighter than it needed to be. He didn't doubt her claim of prowess; she probably practiced her profession several times a night at least. A road that well traveled didn't have much appeal for him even under better circumstances.

As she noted his eyes traveling over her wares, the woman smiled, anticipating winning her point. "That's right, love. Take a gander at the merchandise. I'll wager it's been awhile since you've seen better."

Better… Slowly, he reached out a thoughtful hand and picked up a lock of shining dark hair. It felt soft to his touch as he twined it around his finger. Unbidden, his mind took him back to his former life, remembering the last time he'd seen its like…when long dark hair framed another face, one finely boned and elegant…a slender body…a warm smile directed at him…the sound of an accented voice that spoke his name with approval…bright, intelligent eyes…

Eyes that now would no doubt be full of nothing but disappointment and accusation…

Abruptly pushing the leering strumpet away with a snarl, he swept past her startled form and fled the pub into the dark wet night beyond. Pulling his cloak more tightly around him against the rain, he moved determinedly down the virtually empty street. All of that was behind him now. For better or worse, he'd begun a new life…and if he found that it wasn't to his liking after all, well, it was too late to do anything to change it now.


	63. A Lucky Break

**Challenge # 93: The New Wand Challenge…someone gets a new wand.**

Characters: Mr. Ollivander and Pomona Sprout

Note: This piece took longer than the usual 30 to 40 minutes.

**A Lucky Break**

Pomona Sprout smoothed down her hair and surreptitiously checked her fingernails for the third time. Even though she'd used a scouring charm on them quite vigorously, they never really looked clean. Too many years spent buried up to her elbows in rich soil tended to do that unfortunately. Oh, well, the dirt was honestly come by. Most of the time she never bothered to give it a thought, but every now and then, she did want to look nice.

Drawing her wand from her pocket, she took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the narrow and somewhat shabby little shop. It was silent when she entered, save for the single echoing tone of a bell from somewhere deep within. Moving through a shaft of sunlight that was alive with dust motes, she crossed the room and stood waiting for Ollivander to appear.

It didn't take long before a curtain was pushed aside and a man with wide silvery eyes stepped out of the back of the shop. A pleased smile creased his features as he saw who was waiting for him.

"How delightful to see you again, Professor Sprout. I must say I enjoyed our little chat in Flourish and Blott's a few days ago, but I didn't expect to see you again so soon. What brings you to my shop? Surely you haven't come to use my professional services, your present wand should last for some time."

Pomona smiled a slightly guilty smile and held her wand out to the wandmaker with a shrug of apology. "Oh, dear, you're right, it should have, and it's been such a good wand. But I'm afraid that one of my students accidentally…sat on it. Now, the wand didn't break, but it has developed a crack which seems to widen if I use it for anything demanding."

"Oh, dear. How unfortunate. Here, let me take a look at it." He moved closer until they stood face to face, and she could practically feel the warmth of his presence like the sunlight that streamed through the dusty air. As his fingertips swept lightly across the back of her hand when he plucked the wand from her grasp, a small shiver cascaded down her spine. She gave a faint involuntary gasp, which caused him to raise his eyes to hers and smile.

Neither of them spoke, and after a moment of simply looking at each other and hovering on the edge of speaking, the old man dropped his eyes once more and began to examine the wand with care.

While he was preoccupied, Pomona watched him closely. They'd known each other casually for many, many years, but it was only recently that they'd spoken more than a few words together about anything other than wands. Months would usually pass without their meeting anywhere. She rarely spent time in Diagon Alley, and he almost never came to the school, but for some reason lately, they'd seemed to run into each other all over the place.

When poor Neville accidentally sat on her wand, her very first thought was that it was fate, because once again, here was a circumstance that was bound to throw her into Ollivander's company. When it dawned on her that having a reason to see him again pleased her quite a lot, it made her suddenly nervous.

At her stage of life, she hardly expected the presence of any man to make her nervous. In fact, she'd thought that feelings of that sort were mostly the province of the young. Realizing otherwise was rather exciting, even if the excitement eventually proved to be composed entirely of idle speculation laced with a huge dollop of wishful imagination.

"Hmmmph." He grunted finally and lifted his head, bringing her back from her rather personal musings.

"Can it be repaired?" she asked hopefully. It really was a lovely wand, and she'd hate to lose the use of it.

The wandmaker lifted an eyebrow. "The real question is…should it be?"

That stumped her. "Why shouldn't it be?" she asked in confusion.

"A wand such as this is a lovely domestic wand. It would no doubt serve you well for many years, as it's quite suited to the lovely Goddess of Fruit Trees as she nurtures the young shoots of the future." His warm smile was reflected in the depths of his remarkable eyes, and she smiled back with an accompaniment of fluttering butterfly wings at the thought that he knew the meaning of her name.

"However," his voice took on a more ominous tone. "I'm afraid that there's an ill wind blowing through Britain. Times are changing. Perhaps something a bit stronger…more powerful would suit you better now for the tasks that are to come."

"Oh," she exclaimed in surprise at the sudden change of mood. "Do you think so?"

"We shall see, dear lady, we shall see…" Slipping her wand into his pocket, he pressed his fingertips together lightly and considered her for a long moment with a piercing stare. Then he turned and moved a few steps along the wall behind him before coming to a stop and reaching up just above his head to pull out one box from the thousands of identical boxes stacked one on top of the other.

Returning to her side, he opened the box and extracted a wand. Handing it to her handle first, he raised an eyebrow and waited.

Pomona grasped the handle automatically and felt a jolt of magic surge through her. She waved it experimentally and a glittering shower of green sparks filled the air.

As she smiled in delight, he smiled back and nodded with satisfaction. "11 inches, Hawthorn…supple enough for your needs, but good for defensive spells as well. You can't be too careful in these doubtful times, and above all, we'd want you to stay safe."

A small thrill of pleasure shot through her at the note of concern she heard in his voice. The wand felt so right in her hand. Better even than the one she'd come in with. She wasn't sure that her finances would stretch to cover a new wand though, when what she'd planned on was a repair. As she opened her mouth to reluctantly ask how much the wand would cost, he beat her to it.

"I'm in the process of reducing my inventory in preparation for…new stock," he said quietly. "Please, accept this wand as a gift…"

"Oh, I couldn't," she gasped, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Ah, but clearly it's perfect for you, dear lady. It will never grace the hand of another. If you don't take it, it will likely languish in the back of my shop for the rest of its days. Surely you won't allow that to happen?"

"Oh, no..." Her grip on the handle tightened instinctively. "Well, if you're sure…" His generosity overwhelmed her. .

He gave a firm nod of his head. "I'm positive. The wand always knows."

Somehow the secure feeling of the wand in her hand gave her the courage to ask what she never would have dared otherwise. "I accept on one condition."

He waited patiently with a faint smile on his pleasant face. "And that condition would be?"

"That you have dinner with me tomorrow night." As soon as the words left her mouth she was aghast at her boldness, but though her heart had stopped beating as she asked, it began to pound even harder with his answer.

"I would love to have dinner with you, my dear. I can think of nothing that would please me more."


	64. One Little Zero

**Challenge # 100: The "One Hundred" challenge. The number 100 must be included in the challenge piece.**

Characters: Sibyll Trelawney, Argus Filch, Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Severus Snape

**One Little Zero **

"100 crystal balls!" Sibyll Trelawney was aghast as she snatched the receipt from the hand of the Deputy Headmistress.

"There must be some mistake! I ordered 10. I know I ordered 10. Just 10…not 100."

But there it was in thick black ink on tan parchment…100 crystal ball delivered at the order of Sibyll Trelawney, Divinations mistress, Hogwarts School, and just to add the final indignity, the last line on the page in bold, lurid red ink read…All Sales Final.

Sibyll raised horrified eyes to Minerva. "How did this happen?" she asked pleadingly, not really hoping for much of an answer, which was probably just as well.

Minerva sighed and shook her head. "I really don't know, Sibyll, but you have to get these boxes out of the entry hall immediately. The students will be arriving for lunch shortly, and they're blocking access to the Great Hall. That tradesman should never have delivered these to this entrance of the castle no matter how many of them he had."

Sibyll simply stared blankly back at her. Somehow, she'd managed to carve out enough storage space for the two boxes that she'd expected to have arrive today, but there were 20 boxes here, and with all the padding that magical crystals required to keep them from being damaged, they weren't exactly small boxes either.

"But what am I to do with them?" she exclaimed. "I can't use 100 crystal balls! Minerva, couldn't you use them in Transfiguration. You're always transforming some glass thing or other."

Minerva merely raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. She'd been waiting for this idea to cross Sibyll's mind, but she wasn't going to get off the hook that easily.

"Yes, I use glass objects from time to time, but not crystal balls. The magical enchantments that permeate these things would wreck havoc with my students' attempts to learn proper transfiguration techniques. I'm sorry, Sibyll, but they're of no use to me. Now get these boxes moved right away."

With one last chiding but not entirely unsympathetic look at the forlorn figure of her Divinations mistress, Minerva McGonagall crossed the hall to the staircase and began to climb.

Sibyll watched her sadly for a moment, and then began to look around the hall to see if help couldn't be found elsewhere. Her plight had drawn a sizeable crowd. Most of those standing around watching looked more amused than sympathetic, but one never knew where salvation might lie. As she began to move towards the watchers, most suddenly found that they had other more pressing places that they had to be.

"Oh, Filius!" Sibyll's voice froze the Charms teacher in his tracks, and the small man reluctantly replaced the smile he'd worn mere moments before and turned back to face his colleague.

"Yes, Sibyll?" he asked courteously.

"Couldn't you use some of these balls in your classes? Maybe your students could use them to practice those floaty charms that I hear them reciting enchantments for all the time. Think how lovely they'd all look floating in the air…the sunlight streaming through them. What a feast for the eyes," she exclaimed enthusiastically.

Her enthusiasm wasn't moving the Charms teacher though, who simply shook his head, somberly. "I'm afraid that the spheres would be too heavy for beginning students to lift, and the more advanced students are beyond the use of such things. I'm sorry, Sibyll. Now, I must run or I could be late for class."

With a jaunty wave, Flitwick escaped from her clutches and disappeared down one of the hallways that headed towards the back of the castle.

Sibyll frowned as she watched him toddle off much more quickly than she'd have expected. She supposed that he could be late for class, but his excuse would be much more believable if he had any classes in that part of the castle, but she happened to know that he didn't.

Turning her head in search of another possible victim, she noticed the dark figure of the Potions master smirking at her from the shelter of the grand staircase. With feline quickness born of desperation, she pounced on him and clutched at his crossed arms with clawlike fingers.

"Severus! Surely you can use magical crystals in Potion making…" she began hopefully.

Plucking her hand from his sleeve like a particularly nasty piece of lint, Snape sneered down into her wide eyes and cut her off with ease.

"Divination crystals are of far too inferior quality to be of the slightest use in Potions. Perhaps Hagrid has need of some drainage fill somewhere."

As she stood there with her mouth hanging open trying to think up a reply, he swirled around and vanished through the opening to the dungeon stairs.

The hall now stood empty except for Sibyll herself and twenty large boxes of crystal balls. Just as she was becoming resigned to having to deal with this colossal error without anyone's help, Argus Filch sidled up to her from the shadowy corner where he'd been watching the excitement with avid eyes.

"What a shame that the shop made such an error. You can't trust tradesman anymore. They always want to cheat you," he exclaimed.

As Sibyll nodded forlornly at the unexpected sympathy in his tone, he added casually, "I could probably find some use for them, if you really don't need them all. I'd be willing to take them off your hands at any rate."

"You could? You would? Oh, Argus, you're a lifesaver!" She beamed at him and tried to engulf him in a hug, but he was too quick for her and managed to somehow put a stack of boxes between them before she could make contact.

"You said that you wanted 10 of them, right? I'll have them delivered to your rooms right away. Don't you worry about the rest of them; I'll see that they get put to good use."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A house-elf appeared with a faint pop in the small space between Filch's office desk and the huge stack of boxes that filled the rest of the room.

"There you are, Archer. Took you long enough. I told you I could get you the crystals."

"Oh, yes, Argus Filch," said the house-elf as he plucked one of the crystals from the open box on Filch's desk and rolled it reverently around in his spindly hands. These will be perfect to replace the failing ones in the castle surveillance system. Thank you."

As the elf turned towards the boxes to remove them, Filch spoke up again. "Not so fast. Remember your promise. If I got you the new crystals you'd allow me to tap into this observation system you use. I'm getting a bit too old to be traipsing all over creation now, and even Mrs. Norris can't be everywhere I need to be. I need to see what's happening all over the castle in order to keep doing my job properly. It's past time you let me use the crystals that you use."

The elf nodded and set the crystal in his hands down on the desk. "Oh, yes, Argus Filch. We will honor our promise to you. Keep this crystal as a viewer, and we'll have the new crystals in place within the hour."

"I won't need magic to use them will I?" Filch asked suspiciously. He'd been asking for this for years and couldn't quite shake the feeling that the pesky elves would find some way to stop him from using the crystals at the last minute, even though they'd finally agreed to give him what he wanted.

Archer shook his small head. "No, the magic is within the crystals. All you'll have to do is tell it where you want to look."

As Filch nodded in satisfaction, the elf and the stack of boxes vanished.

As soon as he was alone, Filch picked up the purring cat that was rubbing against his ankles and stroked her fur lovingly. "Well, old girl, this should make our lives much easier. No telling what juicy bits of info we can pick up now that we'll finally be able to have magical eyes all over the castle. Turns out that it was a very lucky thing that old Trelawney asked me to post her order for her the other day, yes, it was. Amazing what you can do with the addition of one little zero."


	65. Compromising

This wasn't a 30MinuteChallenge. It was a request from a friend, but this seemed like the best place to put it.

Characters: Snape and Lupin during PoA.

"**Compromising"**

Lupin knocked hesitantly on the door of Snape's workroom. The door itself wasn't completely closed, probably to vent the rather appallingly thick gray fumes that were wafting out into the corridor beyond.

"Severus? Are you in there? May I come in?" he asked, coughing discreetly and waving the smoky fumes aside as he pushed the door further open and leaned in to try to find the Potions master. How did he breathe in there?

Snape's voice, low and succinct, cut through the hazy atmosphere like a sharp knife, "No."

Lupin paused in the doorway with a smile on his face. "No, you aren't here, or no, I can't come in?"

"No, I am not here…to you…and definitely, no, you may not come in. Is that specific enough?" the voice continued.

Lupin nodded and moved further into the room, finally spotting Snape's dark figure moving around the source of the fumes, a large black cauldron hanging on a hook next to the fire. As he watched, Snape scooped up a handful of powder from a small porcelain dish and carefully sprinkled it into the contents of the cauldron as he stirred the brew rhythmically with a long glass wand.

"Quite specific enough, thank you," Lupin stated cheerfully as he crossed the room to stand beside the cauldron and peer down at its simmering contents. The hazy atmosphere had cleared remarkably as Snape added that last ingredient, and when Lupin glanced up he had no trouble seeing the Potions master glaring daggers at him from the other side of the pot.

"Since you admit that I was specific enough and yet you still came in, I must conclude that you are just too stupid to understand what the word "No" means. I shudder to think what having you for a teacher is doing to all those impressionable minds."

Lupin shrugged. "Oh, I dare say they're managing quite well. They've survived having you for a teacher for all these years with little ill effect."

The furrows in Snape's brow looked as if they were chiseled in stone. "What do you want Lupin? I thought I'd made it quite clear when you first showed your sorry face here at Hogwarts that as far as I was concerned, you were here on extreme sufferance. You are the very last person I wish to see when I am on my own time."

"Don't worry, Severus. I'm not here to have a friendly little chat about old times."

Snape snorted indelicately and returned his attention to the cauldron, stirring the potion within with careful, measured strokes. "Since where you and I are concerned, the words "friendly" and "old times" do not ever belong in the same sentence, I can't tell you how relieved I am to hear that."

With that remark, Snape pointedly shifted around so that his back was to Lupin and, lifting a flask full of a blue liquid from a nearby table, he began to add the liquid slowly to the contents of the cauldron. A rather pleasant smell reminiscent of roasted almonds filled the air as he continued to stir his potion, a bit more vigorously now.

Lupin stood quietly and watched for a moment longer, but when Snape showed no further sign of acknowledging his presence again, he sighed and held up a book. "Well, I'm sorry to have disturbed you. I never would have, but Albus gave me this and asked me to give it to you. He made it sound important."

Snape threw a puzzled glance over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing when they fell on the small leather bound book in Lupin's hand. With a small huff of impatience, he stirred the mixture a few more times. Then, he knocked the stirring rod gently against the side of the cauldron and set it aside. Swiftly, he wiped his hands on a corner of the heavy apron he was wearing, before turning around and extending a hand for the book.

Lupin solemnly handed it over and watched as Snape gave a disgusted sigh as he read the book's title: The Art of Compromise: Learning to settle your differences through reasoned negotiation.

"I think he might have been hoping that reading this would help to make this year pass a little easier. He gave me a copy, too," Lupin said in a gentle tone.

Snape slowly raised his eyes from the book and stared stonily at Lupin without speaking for a full minute. Then he handed the book back.

Gesturing towards the simmering cauldron, he raised one black eyebrow and spoke in a quiet but very emphatic tone. "You can give that back to Albus and tell him for me that I have already compromised my principles as far as I am willing to. This cauldron full of half prepared Wolfsbane potion is my compromise. I will give up my time to make a pot of it every month that you continue to stay at this school. Beyond that, I am not willing to go. Now, if you wish me to complete this potion in time for it to be of any use to you, I'd suggest that you leave and stop interfering in my work."

Without another word, Snape turned his back on Lupin once more and returned to his potion.

Sadly, Lupin looked down at the small book he now in his hand and silently tightened his grip on it. "I do appreciate your willingness to make this potion, Severus," he said quietly. "I know it takes a lot of time and effort."

"As you should. Now…my time is short, and I have a lot left to do."

Shivering briefly at a sudden chill, Lupin nodded again even though Snape couldn't see him and turned to leave. It was going to be a very long year.


	66. If Your Dreams Could Come True

This piece was also the result of a plea for ideas. The first two and a half sentences were suggested as a prompt…and the rest is what I made of it.

Characters: Sibyll Trelawney

**If Your Dreams Could Come True…**

The bottle sat on the shelf. No other bottle was near it, or indeed any ingredients, utensils, or book. Just the bottle and the faintly blue liquid it contained…Sibyll's hand hovered over it for a moment, then she pulled it back as if from a flame and closed the door, firmly shutting the small bottle within. Clenching her fists tightly, she backed across the room, refusing to take her eyes from the ornate wooden cabinet that hung on the wall next to her bed. Though what she thought might happen if she looked away, she certainly couldn't have said.

Once she reached the door to her bedroom, she stepped outside and closed it behind her, leaning back against it for a long moment. Her wide eyes darted nervously around her sitting room until they fell on the open bottle of sherry that sat on her desk surrounded by the clutter of far too many charts and books and scrolls of parchment. Seeing that bottle, so tall and sturdy in contrast to the one she'd just hidden away gave her courage, and she immediately strode across the room to seize its long slender neck and bring it up to her pitifully eager lips.

Taking a big gulp of the ecstasy inside, she let its warmth burn down through her body and relax the trembling inside her. Momentarily bolstered, she lowered the bottle and sank into the chair before the desk, staring blankly at the clutter that hid its surface from view.

So often that was the case, wasn't it? There always seemed to be something hiding the true and solid from view. No matter how it appeared, there were always layers and layers that needed to be peeled back and peered beneath before a true and complete picture could be formed. Here, she could simply push the pile of parchments aside, pick up the books and press her hand to the solid oak beneath. It was a simple thing.

It wasn't nearly as simple when what you needed to see clearly was something that wasn't open to just anyone, and even if the ability to find the truth, to look it in the eye, lurked within you, it sometimes took a great deal of courage to face it. More than existed in a whole case of bottles such as the one she still held in her hand.

With a sigh, Sibyll took another long swig from the bottle of sherry, and then set it down on the top of her desk once more, clearing a small space with the back of her hand to ensure that it sat securely. Twisting one of her myriad strands of beads around and around in restless fingers, she got up from her chair and walked slowly over to the window.

Beyond the glass, a peaceful summer's day was drawing to a close. A cloudless sky, azure heading resolutely to indigo, spread itself before her everywhere she looked. Gilded treetops swayed in an evening breeze while a hawk soared lazily on the updrafts with its wings spread to the fullness of their majestic glory. Why did she fear it was nothing but a false face…the calm before the gathering storm?

Her eyes turned away from the idyllic scene and focused once more on the firmly shut door to her bedroom. That bottle had stayed closed up in that cupboard for years and she'd barely given it a second thought, why did it call so strongly to her now when the result of using it was so likely to be an unhappy one?

Once it had been her most prized possession. Something only a true seer would own. A badge of office, an indicator of position and ability, much like a well worn deck of tarot cards, a brilliant ball of crystal, and a talent for brewing excellent tea might be. She'd coveted its ownership, hoarded it like gold, and admired it in secret like a stolen treasure. She'd been so naïve. In a way, it was a wonder that she hadn't drunk it down years ago when she was so proud of her talents and totally ignorant of their curse. A fairly large part of her wished fervently that she had.

The draught would only be effective on a true heir of Cassandra. She shook her head sadly. Her more vocal critics would no doubt sneer that it would do nothing for her then, but they'd be wrong…so wrong. The gift was within her. Many who doubted that once, didn't any longer, though they still doubted how useful it was to prophesize without the needed specifics, to point out the portents without spelling out how one was to react to them….to sometimes, not even be aware that you'd spoken, but that was the way of true sight.

Seeing was the easy part…understanding…interpreting…that was what took the training and the experience. And pursuing the needed course of action? Well, that was always left for the doers. Those who forced life to conform to them rather than simply accepting it as it chose to come.

She had the sight, but…for the first time…she wished she didn't.

Something terrible was beginning. Indeed, it had been brewing beneath the surface for far longer than anyone wanted to admit. She didn't need potions or tarot readings or the clarity of crystal to tell her that. The aching in her heart sufficed.

Her protector, her jailer, the one who'd granted her fondest wish and given her the chance to mold questioning minds was now gone. He'd known that her gifts were real, but he hadn't trusted her to use them wisely. Instead, he'd felt the need to imprison her in this tower like the maiden Rapunzel from a child's tale. He'd gifted her with whatever she needed to make her stay a pleasant one, but nevertheless, had locked the door with an iron key and, being more perceptive than your average fairytale witch, kept her hair cut short.

The key was in the hands of another now though, and her stewardship was less experienced, her tolerance less certain, and her power to hold the castle from the forces that besieged it…untested at best. The tower might have to be vacated soon the way events were unfolding, and she might yet be cast out into the world beyond. And if she was, she suddenly feared that she would be the one to fall into the brambles and wander the rest of her life blind to what she most needed to see. And that life might not be a very long or fruitful one.

It was time to drink from the bottle. She knew it was, but the thought now terrified her instead of thrilled her. To have true dreams… To waken and know that whatever had filled your dreaming time was destined to happen even if it was the most fearsome nightmare, chilled her to her core. And it would be…it would! The darkness was coming whether they knew what shape it would take or not. No doubt it was best to know, but that didn't make it any easier.

Turning away from the now deeply purple sky, Sibyll marched across the room to her bedroom door, resisting the impulse to run to the desk first for another shot of liquid courage. She was determined, and what she already possessed would have to see her through. Besides, the bottle was nearly empty anyway.

Flinging the door open, she crossed the dim room to the cabinet and quickly opened the door. Now that she'd made up her mind, she didn't dare to hesitate and possibly let indecision get a foothold. Reaching within, she curled her fingers around the small bottle with the bluish light of dreams inside and took it out.

She sat down on the edge of her bed and pulled out the stopper. A clean, calming scent filled the air. She stared down into the small bottle for a brief moment, then closing her eyes as tightly as she could, she raised it to her lips and swallowed the contents down in one gulp. Then with the weight of her world hovering at her shoulder, she lay down and prepared herself to dream.


	67. Contraband

Challenge # 106: Filch's Office – The entire story must take place in Filch's office.

Title: Contraband

Pairing: MM/SS

Happy Birthday, Severus!

**Contraband**

Minerva McGonagall opened the door to Filch's office and simply walked in, followed by a slightly puzzled Severus Snape.

"Don't you usually knock, Minerva?" he asked in surprise. "I thought you Gryffindors always observed the proprieties."

Minerva shot him a sharp glance. "Not when I know there's no one home to answer. I sent Argus on a little errand out of the castle. He shouldn't be back for quite a while."

Severus frowned as Minerva made a point of closing the office door tightly behind them. "Then why are we here? This is hardly the place for a meeting. You do remember that we had an appointment to go over the student's schedules, don't you? I need to make some changes, and I don't have all day to do it in."

Minerva glared over the top of her spectacles at her companion. "This is just a tad more important than schedules, Severus. Now, where do you think that Argus keeps his stash of contraband materials?"

Severus's eyebrows rose. "Why on earth would you need to know that?"

"Because I have reason to believe that something of mine ended up there, and I want it back."

Severus smirked. "Something of yours? Is Filch allowed to take things away from the staff now?"

Not bothering to answer, Minerva turned away from him to scan the room. Would it be in the desk or perhaps the filing cabinet?

"If you know where he puts them, then tell me," Minerva demanded as she headed for the filing cabinet.

"What did he take, Minerva? Your favorite catnip mouse? The hat with the secret compartment for the hip flask? One of those racy novels that Pomona's always leaving around."

With a small huff of annoyance, Minerva reached out and pulled open the first drawer of the filing cabinet. "No, he took that bottle of massage oil you gave me. The one I intended to use this evening…for your birthday?"

Severus's smirk disappeared abruptly. "The one with the sensitivity charms…that warms on contact with the skin? How the hell did he get his hands on that?"

As Minerva closed the top drawer in frustration at finding it full of nothing but cleaning supplies, Severus hurriedly pulled open the correct drawer of the cabinet, and they both bent to paw through it.

"I had it in my pocket this morning when I was practically run over by a pack of overly rambunctious first years. Once I'd disciplined them, sent them off to class and headed on my way, I suddenly realized that it was no longer in my pocket. When I retraced my steps looking for it, I discovered Argus confiscating it from Neville Longbottom, who must have found it on the floor of the corridor."

Severus gave a snort of laughter. "It certainly would have gone to waste in Longbottom's hands. He wouldn't have a clue what to do with it."

Minerva frowned. "Well, it's going to go to waste period if we don't find it. It doesn't seem to be in here, though I'm amazed at the amount and variety of the things that are here." She held up a very large pair of lace edged satin knickers in a vivid shade of fuchsia. "Who do you suppose these belong to?"

Severus shuddered. "I wouldn't dare to speculate. The more interesting question is how would Filch have ended up with them. They almost look big enough to fit Hagrid."

Minerva sighed and tossed them back into the drawer, closing it firmly. "Oh, now that's an image I didn't need. Where else would he have put that bottle?" She glanced around the crowded office. "Maybe his desk?"

The two of them headed for the desk and began to pull out all the drawers one by one until finally the sought after bottle turned up in the very bottom drawer. Minerva grasped it tightly and stood up with a sigh, sliding it into her pocket and patting it firmly. "Oh, thank goodness. I'd hate to have lost it."

"So would I. It wasn't cheap, and I was really looking forward to putting it to use this evening. In fact…" He suddenly reached out and pulled her back against him, nuzzling her neck and sliding a firm hand down over her body, pausing to lightly squeeze her breast before sliding down over her abdomen to caress between her legs. "If Filch is going to be away for awhile, perhaps a change of location might be…stimulating…"

Though her heart sped up and her breathing began to quicken at his touch, Minerva eyed the thick layer of dust that lay over almost everything in the room except for the desk itself. "This is hardly the most attractive venue for intimacy, Severus," she remarked mildly, though not protesting too much as he turned her towards him, pressed her down onto the surface of Filch's paper strewn desk and began to unfasten her robe.

"I thought it was the quality of the company not the romantic nature of the location that counted," he said as he pressed kisses down the length of her throat. "Besides, it is my birthday, and I think that gives me the right to unwrap my gifts whenever and wherever I choose, does it not?"

"I suppose it does," Minerva answered with a sigh of pleasure. "Though I did intend to wrap up your gift a bit more attractively later on."

"Then perhaps we can think of this as a sort of hors d'oeuvre? A hint of attractions yet to come?" he said smugly. "Besides…it allows us to knock Filch's office off our list of anointed rooms much sooner than we ever expected to be able to, doesn't it?"

Her answering laugh turned into a moan of desire as he opened her gown completely and took her nipple into his mouth. "I suppose you're right. Happy Birthday, Severus."

"It's certainly shaping up to be," he murmured in return.


	68. Could I Keep You Here Forever

Challenge # 96: Love is in the Air…someone receives an unexpected declaration of love.

Pairing: Remus Lupin and Luna Lovegood (Post War)

Rating: PG

**Could I Keep You Here Forever if Tomorrow Never Comes?**

Luna Lovegood inched open the door and peeked into the quiet room. Even though she'd volunteered for years at St. Mungo's, she'd never really gotten used to the smell of hospitals or the ponderous quiet of the sick room. Once she was sure that no one but the patient was inside, she slipped into the room and crossed over to the bed. Moving very carefully so as not to jar the sleeper, she sank down onto the side of the bed and reached out her hand to tentatively stroke the back of the somewhat larger one that lay unmoving atop the counterpane.

Gently, she grasped his hand in hers, curling her long fingers around it protectively and bringing it slowly up to her lips to press a delicate kiss into the limp palm. Just for a moment she let herself enjoy the feel of his cool, calloused fingertips as they brushed against her cheek, wishing that there was purpose behind their touch.

The man in the bed stirred at her kiss and opened his eyes, blinking them in confusion as he tried to readjust his perception to include the sight of a young woman seated on the side of his bed when the last he knew, he'd been alone.

"Who? Oh, Luna… What are you doing here?" Remus Lupin considered trying to push himself up into a sitting position but found that he didn't really have the energy.

Luna smiled and lowered his hand from her face, though she kept it tightly clasped within her own. "You looked so peaceful when you were sleeping. I'm sorry that I woke you. You know everyone looks younger when they sleep as if the weight of the world simply disappears when we close our eyes. I wonder where it goes. What do you think?"

Disconcerted by her question, as was common when talking to Luna, Remus found himself without a ready answer. "Uh…I don't know. I guess I never thought about it."

Luna shrugged thoughtfully and then frowned down at him in concern. "I guess it's one of those unsolvable mysteries, like why socks disappear in the wash. You know, you still look very tired. Aren't they taking good care of you here? I could speak to one of the Healers."

Remus smiled and shook his head. "They're taking excellent care of me, don't worry."

"But I want you to get better and go home. I've seen signs of nesting Nightwarbling Masqueles near Hogsmeade, and I was hoping that you'd come and look for them with me."

Remus's eyes darkened, and he looked away from her hopeful, open face to gaze out the window at the gray sky beyond. "I'm afraid you'll have to look for them without me this time."

"Well, it doesn't have to be done immediately. Masqueles sit on their eggs for months. We have lots of time. The important thing is that you get better and get out of here."

Remus sighed and reluctantly turned back to face her. "Actually, time is in rather short supply for me. I'm afraid that I'm not going to be getting better this time."

A wary look settled into her wide eyes, and she stiffened up ever so slightly. "I don't understand. Of course you'll get better. The Healers here are the very best."

"Yes." He nodded in agreement. "Yes, they are, but there's only so much they can do. I'm afraid this time I'm dying, and they can't really do anything to stop it."

"What? No…what do you mean you're dying? You can't die. You're not that old…"

"Well, I'm a lot older than you are," he said with a wistful smile. "But age really doesn't have anything to do with it. My body's just worn out from all the abuse it's been put through over the years. That wound I received near the end of the war has never really healed properly, and the lingering effect from the silver of the weapon has sapped what strength I have left. My monthly transformations are simply tearing my body apart beyond anyone's ability to put it back together. They don't think I'll survive the next full moon…" His voice trailed away at the look of horror that filled her eyes.

"But that's tomorrow!" she gasped.

Slowly, he nodded. "I know."

"No! No, you can't be dying." She shook her head determinedly. "It's not fair. The war is finally over. You're free to really live, and I want… I need… I love you!"

Remus stared at the distraught young woman in silence. Why had he never suspected that her feelings ran so deep? She'd sought out his company more and more often over the last few years, and he'd enjoyed spending time with her, but he'd never dreamed… Well, perhaps he hadn't dared to admit to dreams…dreams like that never came to a happy ending for him, and Luna was so…young…

"I'm sorry," he whispered helplessly, unable to think of anything to say that would comfort her."

Tears began to slip angrily down over her suddenly blotchy cheeks, and she shook her head savagely, still denying reality.

"No. No. This isn't true; it can't be. I've waited. You see, I knew I had to, so I've waited for so long. I waited until I was grown up…until you wouldn't think of me as your student anymore. I waited while you and Miss Tonks were together…until you were done seeing each other. I waited until the war was over…until it was finally time for people to be happy again. And now…now I have to wait again? Until I die, too?"

Sobbing violently, she threw herself into his arms. Completely stricken, Remus held her against his chest and stroked her hair with a trembling hand.

"No, Luna. That would be absolutely the wrong thing to do. You need to live your life…every moment of it, because it's much too precious to waste. Promise me that you will." He rubbed her back gently as her sobs eased slightly, and she began to sniffle. "Please, promise me that you won't waste any of your life mourning over me."

Slowly, she lifted her head from his chest and stared into his eyes without answering. Her huge eyes were red-rimmed, and her face was streaked with tears which dripped off the end of her nose onto the bedclothes. Luna was not beautiful when she cried but that only made her seem more endearing to Remus.

"I'm sorry," he murmured softly. "I never realized how you felt."

"I know," she whispered. "I wasn't sure that you'd want to know. You see, if I didn't tell you, I could continue to hope because in silence all things are still possible. Once you say a thing out loud…it becomes real and so many of the possibilities that go with it fade away."

He smiled in understanding. "I suppose you're right."

Luna sat up and scrubbed her face with her hands, desperately trying to compose herself. "So many people I've loved will be waiting for me after death. My mother is already there…waiting. Will you wait for me, too?"

"Only if you promise me that you'll do your very best to make my wait a long one. You know, I've got lots of friends there too whom I'm anxious to catch up with. So the time will pass pleasantly for me. I'm ready for a rest."

Reluctantly, she nodded. "I promise… I'll take as long as it takes, but I'll miss you so much."

He reached out to stroke her wet cheek tenderly. "I'll miss you, too."

Sniffling loudly, she reached up and captured his hand once more. "Can I stay with you now…for awhile?"

"I'd like that." Withdrawing his hand from hers, he opened his arms invitingly, and she wasted no time in cuddling up against him and hugging him hard.

After a few moments, Luna's voice, thin and stretched but resolute, broke the heavy silence. "You know, I think it's going to be a good year for the Masqueles. The ontaberry bushes have been loaded down with buds, and the Masqueles really thrive on ontaberries…"

Smiling contentedly, Remus stroked her hair with a gentle hand and let her continue to talk as they lay there together and watched the evening shadows lengthen.


	69. Conjugal Visit

Challenge # 107: The Holiday Visitor Challenge. Someone gets an unexpected visit over the Yule Holidays.

Characters: Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy

Rating: PG

**Conjugal Visit**

Lucius stared out through the tiny ice encrusted window at the ceaseless movement of the cold gray waves. The only change to be noted day after day was the amount of tepid light that filtered through the grimy panes of glass. The bleak leaden sky was darkening even now, though it was barely past midday. Winter was a dreary time of year under the best of circumstances, but winter in the frigid atmosphere of Azkaban prison was depression itself. To think that this was his second Christmas spent in such a place. He'd never have believed that his life could come to this.

Shivering, he pulled the rich velvet of his robe closer about his throat and turned away from the dismal view to stare around his cell. At least his money had allowed him to purchase some small and meager comforts. In addition to his robes, he had a rug on the floor and warmer blankets on the bed, things that never would have been allowed in the old days under the oppression of the Dementors. He supposed that was something to be grateful for, but right at this very moment, he really wasn't in the mood to be grateful.

He wanted to leave, to go home to his family…to the life he should be leading. When he'd first been brought here, he'd been sure that it would only be temporary. After all, with the Dark Lord on the rise again, he certainly wouldn't let such an important follower as himself languish uselessly in such a wretched hellhole. Yet weeks and months continued to pass and nothing ever happened, and with so much time on his hands to think, he'd finally come to the realization that those he believed would work to see him freed, actually, spitefully were quite content to see him rot where he was.

He was being punished for his perceived failure, despite the fact that the failure of that misguided mission was not really his fault. It was a failure nevertheless and since someone must always be punished when things didn't work out perfectly, here he was and here he would stay. Until the Dark Lord found another use for him, and there was now a part of him that was quite loath to have that day come.

Suddenly, his attention was caught by the almost always welcome sound of a key grating in the lock of his door. Curious, he turned his head and waited. Whatever it meant, it would at least break the monotony.

"You have thirty minutes," a rough voice stated in a bored tone.

The soft sound of clinking of coins came to his ears. "I believe we agreed on 45," a cultured female voice answered.

"No. Thirty minutes is all that's allowed," the male voice responded.

There was more clinking and a pause. Lucius held his breath; he'd recognized that voice.

"Forty's the best I can do," the gaoler replied again.

"All right forty then," the feminine voice sounded annoyed.

"I'll be sure and knock when I come to take you back. As a warning…" A lascivious note crept into the oily voice of the guard.

"See that you do," the woman answered coldly as the heavy oaken door to the cell was pulled open wide enough to reveal a lovely blonde in a floor length fur cape centered in its frame.

Dismissing the man she'd been speaking with from her mind, Narcissa walked into the cell, and the door closed firmly behind her.

Lucius stared at his wife. It had been so long. Only once in the year and a half that he'd been held here had she been allowed to visit, and now suddenly she was here again. Why had no one warned him? He paid good money for knowledge such as this to be passed along. Clearly, he needed better sources of information; still one did the best one could with what one had in trying times.

"Narcissa," he whispered softly and held out his arms. She filled them in an instant, and he hugged her so close that it almost felt as if they were one person. Her scent filled his nostrils, her silken hair covered his face like a golden cloth, and the beating of her heart pounded loudly against his own.

"Oh, Lucius, I've missed you so much," she murmured softly before he kissed her passionately and stopped any more exchange of words.

Once he could bear to lessen his intense grasp, she pulled back and caressed his face, smiling between her tears as she stared at him yearningly. "You look so thin… so tired."

As he gazed back at her, he noted a few new lines in her usually flawless skin. This horrible situation had obviously taken its toll on her as well. Once he would have pointed such blemishes out as something she needed to remedy. Now he took them as a sign of how much she cared about him and his troubles, and it warmed him deep inside.

"You look beautiful," he answered honestly and watched in pleasure as delicate rose tinged her cheeks.

"How is Draco?" he asked and held his breath. The news that had reached him sometime ago had been worrisome, and the fact that he hadn't been able to discover anything more at all since last summer had been wearing on him greatly. "Is it true? Dumbledore is dead…and Draco was involved?"

Narcissa nodded. "The Dark Lord ordered Draco to kill him…"

Lucius' expression turned grim. "As further punishment…"

"Yes, I fear so, though that wasn't how he presented it, of course. It was to be Draco's triumph. His chance to show that he was ready to join the ranks of the Death Eaters. He accepted it of course; he had no choice but…" Her voice faltered and lowered to a mere whisper, "completing such a task was beyond his power. If it hadn't been for Severus…"

Lucius looked troubled. "Yes. It seems we owe him a debt. He was the one who actually did the deed. I must confess that I was surprised to hear that. I didn't think that Severus had it in him. I was afraid that over the years he'd actually grown fond of the old fool."

"Fond or not, he succeeded where Draco failed…but he protected our son and got him safely out of Hogwarts once the deed was done."

"Was Draco punished for not being the one to finish Dumbledore off?" asked Lucius warily.

Narcissa's eyes glittered and she nodded. "Yes, but less severely than I feared. Our son is well, Lucius, and he's in no imminent danger. The Dark Lord hasn't assigned him any other dangerous tasks for now, and I'm hopeful that it will stay that way. Fortunately, there are always many others eager to step forward and do anything that needs to be done."

"Does he ever speak of me? Or of getting those of us languishing in this hellhole released?" Lucius didn't hold out much hope, but he had to ask.

Slowly, she shook her head and bitterness tinged her voice. "No. I've tried to bring it up, but he remains unmoved. I'm scared Lucius. He only defines loyalty as success. Only those who act unquestioningly, who sacrifice all are praised. And so many of them are now dead, while the goals we once hoped to reach seem as far away as ever. Do you think we might have made a mistake…"

"Shhh…" he placed a finger to her lips. "If we did, my love, it wouldn't be wise to admit it aloud now, would it?"

Fear glistened in her eyes, and he wrapped her more solidly in his embrace with a sigh. "We shouldn't be wasting what little time we have together talking about this. You're here in my arms for Christmas. However you managed it, it means…everything."

"We only have half an hour now," she murmured softly. Her fingers moved to the clasp of her cloak which she opened with a twist, allowing it to drop and pool around her ankles, revealing a low-cut pale blue gown that clung to her body like a second skin.

As he gazed at her, he wondered how he could possibly express all that he needed her to know…all that he felt…in just a half an hour. Deciding with a twinge of irony that one must do what one can with what one has in trying times, he smiled and gathered her close once more. "Then we don't have a moment to waste…"


	70. Success!

Challenge # 111: The First Time Challenge…it's someone's first time to do something.

Character: Minerva McGonagall

**Success!**

Minerva took a deep breath and stared up into the darkening sky above her head. She would conquer this. She would. Wasn't she the best Transfiguration student in the school? Didn't she work harder than all the others? Strive for more? This time it would work. It had to. She knew it was possible. Others had done it. Yes, most of them had probably been adults when they succeeded but that really shouldn't matter. Knowledge, understanding and determination should matter much more than age, and she was so close to succeeding. This would be the time. She just knew that it would.

The last time she tried she'd almost done it, she'd ended up with a tail and whiskers and her body shrunk and grew fur but she never truly became a cat. Looking back on that attempt, she'd realized that it was really only her face that hadn't transformed and she thought she'd finally figured out what her problem was.

She was still hanging onto her humanity. In order to truly become something other than yourself, you had to be ready to give yourself up…to set it aside completely and embrace a totally new experience. She smiled as she tucked her wand into her pocket. This time it would work.

Confidently, she stood straight and tall in the middle of the secluded garden and closed her eyes. Reciting the necessary spells meticulously in her thoughts, she concentrated on becoming smaller, furrier, sharpening her eyesight and her teeth, and as she transformed mentally, her body followed suit.

As smoothly as pouring water from a glass, her body contracted on itself, shivering and rippling as it reformed into a small Tabby cat. When Minerva opened her eyes again, she found to her delight that she no longer had to view the world from behind rectangular pieces of glass.

Strange sensations immediately enveloped her, and she experienced a moment of panic while her human intelligence grappled with her sudden immersion into animal senses and sensibilities. The world around her looked different…smelled different…felt different. For one thing, it was much, much bigger than she'd ever seen it before, and she felt a shiver of fear run through her, hand in hand with her sense of immense accomplishment. She'd succeeded, but now that she had…what should she do first?

Slowly, she began to experiment with her new body, and she was amazed to find that it moved in ways that she'd never even thought of moving. Instinctively she began to stretch every muscle one at a time in a slow sensuous sequence. It felt wonderful…powerful...hedonistic. She'd never found simply moving her body to be so enjoyable before, and she was eager to discover more.

The stiff autumn grass that covered the ground brushed against her stomach as she walked, and she was unsure whether or not she liked the sensation. How strange it felt to be so low to the ground. Carefully, she stepped out of the grass and onto the cold hard flagstones of a nearby walkway. The feeling of the textures and temperatures beneath the thick pads on her feet was there, but held at a distance. She felt more than she'd feel through her sturdy shoes, but far less than she would if she took those shoes off and walked through the grass barefoot.

Moving on four feet instead of two was a bit of an adventure in itself. It came to her automatically. Her body knew how to move in this form, but her brain couldn't help but marvel at the difference in the cadence of her steps and the swaying of her body when moving in this new way.

Her feet clicked with each step on the flags, and she paused to examine another new phenomenon. She had claws! She could extend them…dig them into the earth…or pull them back into soft furry sheaths and hide them away completely until she might have need of them. How marvelous. How exciting.

Minerva's heart began to beat faster as she started to lose her uncertainty and revel in her new form. Obeying a sudden impulse, she turned and began to run swiftly across the small courtyard, bounding through a stone archway and out onto the expense of lawn beyond. Pushing herself to the limits, she ran as fast as she ever had before, faster than she could ever imagine moving; she was exhilarated with the feeling of the air rushing past her, of the rhythmic tapping of her paws against the ground…of the sheer freedom of speed.

She'd done it, she'd finally become a cat. Now a whole world was open before her to explore and, filled with excitement at the wonder of it all, she headed off to see what other new experiences awaited her.


	71. Solitaire

Challenge #111: The First Time Challenge: It's someone's first time doing something.

Character: Remus Lupin

**Solitaire**

Remus shivered as the door closed solidly behind him, cutting him off from everything familiar and safe. The sound of first one bolt, then another, and then, yet a third being thrown behind him was all that broke the heavy silence that surrounded him.

He would have to face this alone. Hadn't his parents told him that many times over the last month…since his recovery? Yet, until this very moment, now that he was here in this cold, dark, empty place, he hadn't really realized what that would mean. He was truly alone, more alone than he'd ever been in his life, and this was the way it would always be from now on because he was no longer like the rest of his family. For the first time, he was about to become a monster, and that single horrifying thought plunged a dagger of fear into his heart that shook him to his soul.

Slowly, he gazed around the bleak enclosure he now stood in. There had been lots of debate as to where he would have to go when the moon became full again. Should they lock him in the basement? Would they need to build a cell? Maybe dig a deep pit? No one really seemed sure what would be best, but in the end, they'd decided that it should be somewhere far away from anyone else. Apparently having a werewolf in the family was sort of like having a criminal or a squib. It was simply something that you didn't talk about with others, and the fewer who knew about it, the better.

So here he stood, in the hastily emptied out, stone lined barrow where his uncle often kept hay or tools or, judging by the smell, occasionally pigs. A single candle placed on a rough protruding stone near the roof was his only source of light and the drafts that found their way through the chinks in the stones caused its flame to flicker wildly and cast strange and threatening shadows everywhere. Not that any shadow could possibly be a threat to him now.

Remus sighed and wondered what he should do next. He sat down and drew his knees up under his chin, hiding his bare feet in the rough material of the loose robe that his mother had given him to wear. She said it would be easier on him when he transformed if he didn't have a lot of clothes on.

He supposed that it made sense, but he still couldn't quite imagine what it would be like to change shape. He squinted at his hand and arm in the dim light. What would it feel like not to have hands anymore…but instead to have paws with sharp claws and a coat of thick fur over everything? He shivered once again and pulled the robe more tightly around him. At the moment, the idea of having fur was actually a bit appealing, but the rest…

They told him it would hurt to change shape. But no one seemed to be able to say how much it would hurt. Would it be like when he fell off the roof of the shed while trying to fly and scrapped all the skin off his right leg and broke the bone? That had hurt a lot, or would it be more like when he'd burned his hand by being careless with a candle. That had hurt, too, but differently.

Somehow he had a feeling that this hurt would be much worse than any other hurt that he'd ever experienced, and it scared him to think about how much worse it might be.

Suddenly, he felt an odd twinge inside him. Just for a moment. He sat up straight, his heart in his throat, his breath coming in shallow gasps. Then the twinge was back…stronger…more painful. This was it. A moment of pure panic seized him by the throat and he found he was trembling harder than ever, but it wasn't simply fear and cold any longer…now it was something more.

The twinges became stabs of sharp, burning pain which came in ever increasing waves. As he watched in horrified fascination, his hands began to twist in ways they shouldn't. His fingers started to stretch, the joints popping apart. The same thing was happening to his legs and his back and his face.

His entire body felt as if it was being engulfed in flames and with one long agonizing scream, Remus found himself being swept away from his reality, from his humanity, from everything he'd ever known and plunged into a nightmare that he couldn't escape.

The room finally became silent once more save for a panting…a growling. Hot blooded anger, need, and yearning threw itself hard against the door to freedom. Its claws scraped long furrows in the wood and wrenched a sob from the throat of a lingering witness, quickly drawn away.


	72. In the Dark of Night

Characters: Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks

Rating: PG

**In the Dark of Night**

Staring at the ceiling was getting really tiresome, and he was feeling too restless to continue simply lying there in the dark any longer. Remus pushed back the covers and sat up, swinging his legs off the bed, curling his toes as his feet hit the cold wood of the floorboards. He glanced across the bed at the sleeping figure nestled in a tight ball. His movement didn't seem to be disturbing her, and for that, he was glad.

He got to his feet and silently crossed the room to the padded seat under the window. Once there, he sat down, leaned back against the wall and pushed the long gauzy curtains aside. He glanced up as the light of the moon hit his face. Its brightness was waxing and waning as clouds moved quickly across its face, and he unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief when a particularly large cloud obscured its light completely leaving him once more in shadow.

It was getting harder and harder to sleep through the night. Everyday was so full that he couldn't spend too much time thinking about things, but as soon as his head hit the pillow, thoughts that he'd pushed away during the daylight hours came tumbling out of the darkened corners of his mind.

Drawing his legs up onto the window seat, he wrapped his arms around them, rested his chin on his knees and gazed out over the tops of the nearby houses at the ambient glow of the city. He still shivered every time that he let his weary mind focus on the horrors of the last couple of weeks…Snape's betrayal…the funeral of a beloved friend…the debate on whether to close Hogwarts in the face of rising Death Eater activity…and the overriding wave of fear that had finally burst into the open with the death of Albus Dumbledore.

The Ministry's response was only to be expected, crack down as hard as you can on innocent, but powerless and easily obtained, people so that you will appear to be doing something to keep the populace safe, while actually shaking in your boots, wringing your hands and cowering behind your reassuring platitudes and ever increasing propaganda. Not particularly helpful…but typical.

Not that they didn't have reason to be floundering a bit. The unexpected death of Albus Dumbledore at the hands of someone whom he trusted and relied on had shocked everyone and thrown so many things into disarray. The Order, too, was unsure exactly how best to proceed. So many of their plans had depended on having an inside glimpse into Voldemort's camp…into his plans and schemes, but now, instead of them having that inside edge…it was Voldemort that had much more intimate knowledge of what they had in store for him, turning the tables rather spectacularly.

Remus shook his head. He'd never particularly liked Snape, but he'd always believed that he was trustworthy when it counted. Albus's faith in the man had been unshakeable, and there was always something so reassuring in anything you were told by Dumbledore. Very few people would ever question his counsel. Why should they? Time after time, he was proven right.

Then, for him personally, there was the simple fact that Snape had made the Wolfsbane potion for him month after month without fail. Even after Snape had revealed his secret to the world, forcing him out of Hogwarts and back to the hand to mouth existence that he'd become accustomed to over the years, the potion had continued to show up every month.

He'd been very grateful for that, and had felt quite in Snape's debt as a result. Even if the man had only done it because Albus had told him to, he had done it, and that meant a lot…or at least, he'd thought it had. But apparently everything he'd done had been nothing but a ruse on Snape's part. He'd simply been playing along until forced to show his hand…and tell the world which side he was really on. And what a revelation it had been.

Very little that had occurred before had been as devastating to their cause as Albus's murder. Could they survive it? Yes. It wouldn't be easy, but they had no choice but to absorb the blow and go on. However, they were badly handicapped without Dumbledore's guidance, and no one was more aware of that than he, now that so many people had begun to look his way, asking for his advice, expecting him to somehow step in and help to fill the gap.

But he wasn't a leader. He was a negotiator…a voice of reason…of compromise. He wasn't the one to hold together an organization like the Order of the Phoenix. But to be honest, he wasn't sure who else would be right for the job either. Albus Dumbledore was an impossible act to follow.

A sigh from the direction of the bed, drew his attention back from the dark world outside the window. A sad smile drifted across Remus's face as he watched Tonks shift her position in the bed and drift back into a deeper sleep. She was such a gift. One he couldn't help but treasure, but also one he would never feel really comfortable accepting, no matter how much he wanted to. She'd been the one bright spot in an otherwise dismal couple of weeks, but he still found himself resisting the happiness she represented.

No matter what she said or how she tried to justify their relationship…there was no getting past the unpleasant fact that his very nature put her at great risk. A risk that she didn't deserve. Someone as full of life as she was deserved a whole, normal_, young_ man…someone who would make her life better, who would always be there for her when she needed him. Someone who could hold a paying job, live a normal life, be a full partner in their relationship, and…if the world ever became a sane and safe place again…could possibly give her children. But he couldn't be or do any of those things, and it just wasn't fair to her to continue on and pretend that he could. Yet, now that he'd started…if he pulled back again…he'd only hurt her more, and he didn't want to do that either.

Being between a rock and a hard place didn't even begin to describe his life at the moment. No matter which way he turned…there was something blocking his path, but sitting here in the dark and mentally running over and over the same ground wasn't going to give him any new insights into anything.

So, glancing one final time at the cold light of the moon, he shifted around to face the dark room, letting the curtain drop and veil the window once more. Then slowly he got to his feet and made his way back to the bed. As he slipped back between the sheets, Tonks sighed and moved closer, murmuring softly as she reached for him, "Is everything all right?"

He smiled and pulled her warm, pliant body against his side before whispering, "Yes, everything's fine. Go back to sleep."

She cuddled against him and smiled drowsily, letting her eyelids drop obediently. "Okay…" Then after a pause, "I love you."

His throat tightened and he lifted a hand to lightly stroke her hair. "I know…I love you, too," he whispered softly and with a sigh, he closed his eyes.


	73. Through the Woods and Up a Hill

Characters: Pomona Sprout and Severus Snape

Rating: G

**Through the Woods and Up a Hill**

Pomona groaned as she struggled up the steep hill and shoved brambles out of her path before they could tear her robes too badly. The last thing she should be doing right now was hiking up a hillside through thick undergrowth and sliding around on the muddy uneven ground. Certainly the idea of obtaining cuttings of rivening vines for cultivation had sounded much better to her in the comfort of her greenhouse than it did halfway up the hillside behind the castle. What had she been thinking anyway? She should have simply smiled and thanked Snape for telling her about them and asked him to get them for her instead of letting him talk her into accompanying him on a collecting expedition.

No wonder he'd smirked when she'd agreed that she could probably use the change of scenery that an outing would give her. Miserable sod. In all their discussion, did he ever once mention that the damned vine was growing on top of a bloody mountain? No, of course he didn't! All he'd said was that he'd found it growing just inside the forest canopy. Well, to her, that meant crossing the lawn and stepping in under the trees not hiking up a damned cliff.

She was getting too old for this sort of thing. Too old, too tired and just plain too worn out. It had been a horrible, cold winter and a miserably wet spring. Half her plants had been frozen when the pipes had burst in greenhouse one, the students had been more whiney and more ham-fisted with the flora than usual this year, and she was only now recovering from one of the nastiest colds she'd had in ages. Yes, a dose of pepperup potion would have probably helped quite a bit, but who wants to wander around smoking at the ears for hours? So undignified…she'd rather suffer, and she had to admit, looking back on it, that suffering was exactly what she'd done.

Shoving her hat back out of her eyes, she glared upwards at Snape's flowing robes as they bobbed and swayed a fair way ahead of her. Why wasn't he getting tangled up in the brush? He was wading through the same stuff that she was. Of course, he was a bit taller. Perhaps he was simply able to step over the worst of it with his longer legs, or perhaps, she realized to her chagrin, as she noticed a flash of light coming from in front of him, he was using magic to clear his path. Swallowing a stab of further annoyance, Pomona belatedly pulled out her own wand and began using it to part the undergrowth and make her own way up the hill a little bit easier.

Just as she was about to call out that she really needed to stop and rest, she found herself stumbling out onto flatter ground. Placing a hand against a nearby tree, she paused and leaned against it to take in a few deep breaths.

"Severus, I hope that it's not too much farther," she exclaimed between gasps of air. "I don't think I'm really up to much more of this climbing."

"Perhaps you should get out and hike around more often, Pomona," Snape replied coolly. "The exercise would do you good."

Pomona straightened up and shot Snape a sharp glare, suspecting that he might be making an unflattering allusion to her weight, but he'd turned away and was looking around them instead of at her. The man wasn't even out of breath, she noted sourly. How fair was that?

Ah, well, she reflected silently as she took a deep breath and tried to think more kindly, it wasn't his fault that he was a good bit younger, thinner and fitter than she was, and he was probably right, too. A bit more exercise wouldn't hurt her. She'd become lazy and complacent these past few years. Now she tended to buy all the things that she needed for her work from large garden centers and greenhouses instead of spending the time necessary to collect her own specimens as she once had. A bit more of a do-it-yourself attitude would probably serve her well, and the exercise certainly wouldn't hurt either…though trying to fit all that overdue exercise into one heavy duty hike up a mountainside was probably not the best way to make up for lost time.

"I'm sure you're right," she answered amiably and suppressed a smile at the look of surprise on his face at her easy agreement. "Well, is this where we'll find the vine?"

Snape nodded and moved towards the edge of the tree line. "There is quite a lot of it twining itself around the trees near the edge of the hill. I don't think you'll find it difficult to find sufficient excellent specimens to take cuttings from. It will be quite useful to have it available in the greenhouses as well. I've found it a bit tiresome to have to hike all the way up here to gather enough to make Poppy's allergy relief potions every springtime."

Pomona smiled as she followed her companion through the trees to the edge of the hillside. That explained why Snape was suddenly willing to be so helpful. He'd probably decided that he could save himself a bit of work at the same time, and why not? She could hardly fault him for that if most of the ingredients he regularly foraged for were in such hard to reach places.

Looking where Snape indicated, Pomona noticed that most of the trees were indeed liberally covered in the small yellow flowers and shiny sharp green leaves of the rivening vines as the fast spreading plants climbed up their trunks and spread out along their lowest branches. This particular clump of trees was quite thick with the stuff. At least collecting it wasn't going to be difficult, she thought with satisfaction as she reached for her collecting bag. Then, as she shoved her hand inside to reach her trowel and shears, she glanced out beyond the trees and gasped audibly.

With wide eyes, she stepped forward out of the trees onto the hillside and stared out over the land below. "Oh my…" she whispered softly, not having the words to adequately describe her reaction to what she saw.

There, spread before her in all its wondrous glory, was Hogwarts castle and its surroundings. The late afternoon sun positively glowed off the gray stones of the imposing structure's elegant facade and set its many paned windows aflame. The bright surface of the lake beyond was ruffled with froth from brisk gusts of wind that stirred up the water and then moved on to set the trees of the forest beyond gently dancing.

Towering white clouds moved swiftly across a brilliant sky, sending patches of shadow speeding across the wide expanses of glimmering emerald lawn. Here and there, she could see the small dark shapes of people and animals moving about the landscape. Hagrid, looking uncommonly small from this vantage point, was poking around the garden behind his cottage accompanied by a much smaller shadow that could only be Fang.

Her beloved greenhouses sparkled brilliantly in the sunshine to one side of the castle, looking for all the world like a gleaming necklace carelessly discarded by a giantess. Students, enjoying what had become an uncommonly lovely spring day, were taking advantage of being able to get outside once more by wandering here and there over the lawns and clustering around the lake on benches and under the swaying trees, getting in a last bit of revision before their rapidly approaching exams.

Shading her eyes from the glare of the sun, Pomona's gaze followed a lazy hawk as it glided off across the dark green expanse of the forest and on towards the glittering roofs of Hogsmeade in the distance. It was a picture perfect scene and a feeling of awe and joy swelled up inside her as she looked down on her world in all its beauty.

"Puts things in perspective, doesn't it?" Snape's low voice broke into Pomona's reverie.

She turned to see him standing beside her, gazing out as she was at the magnificent view. Suddenly she found she was no longer resentful in the least at the long hard climb that he'd led her on to get up here. "Yes, I suppose it does. I've been feeling a bit down lately…post-winter blues, I guess. I think I'd forgotten how privileged I am to live and work in such a lovely, lovely place. Thank you for reminding me how lucky I am, Severus." She smiled happily up at him.

Snape turned his eyes away from the glory below and forced an impatient frown onto his face as he gazed down at his companion. "I didn't bring you up here for the view," he said gruffly. "This is simply where the rivening vines happen to grow. And if we're to collect our specimens and make it back in time for dinner, we should get to work."

Without a further word, he turned his back on the view and moved off into the shelter of the trees. Pomona smiled to herself as she watched his stiff back as he walked away. The man never could handle being thanked for anything; it was actually one of his more endearing qualities. One of the few, if she stopped to think about it.

With a sigh of satisfaction, she turned back and let her eyes skim across the beautiful valley below one final time before turning away and following Snape back into the trees to begin harvesting the desired plants. With a happy heart and a contented smile, she began to think about how lovely the rivening vines would look growing on arbors in one of the castle courtyards.


	74. A Different Choice

What if Snape had decided not to kill Dumbledore on top of the Astronomy Tower?

Characters: Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore, Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape and assorted Death Eaters.

"**A Different Choice"**

"Severus…"

Snape said nothing in response to the pleading that was evident in that one hopeful word. Instead, he simply gazed down at Dumbledore, crouched against the battlements, with revulsion and hatred etched into the harsh lines of his face.

"Severus… please…"

Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Without pause, Snape whirled around at the last second and the jet of green that flew from his wand hit the man and woman standing close together to one side of him. They both dropped silently to the stones of the tower roof.

For a brief moment, no one moved or breathed, then everyone came to life at once. Magic flew here and there in quick succession, but Snape was faster than either the brutal faced Death Eater or the werewolf. They were quickly silenced as well, though not as permanently as the previous two had been.

Draco Malfoy simply stood by and watched everything flash around him without even lifting his wand. All the fight seemed to go out of him as the great plan, that he'd managed so well in its earlier stages, fell apart around him because, in the end, he hadn't quite been able to kill.

Snape turned and walked up to Draco, who simply looked at him, traces of fear and respect reflected in the sharp planes of his face. "What are you going to do with me? Kill me, too?" he whispered softly.

Snape shook his head. "I promised your mother that I would watch over you, Draco. I'm bound by that promise."

As confusion flitted across Draco's face, Snape raised his wand again and Draco fell limply to the floor…unconscious. Snape looked down at the young man for a moment, and then turned and made his way over to Dumbledore, who had slumped down against the stones and closed his eyes.

Snape knelt in front of him and reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder. Dumbledore's eyes flew open, and he stared at his friend. "Why?" he murmured softly. "Why didn't you do as we'd agreed, Severus? You know what this will mean."

"I told you that I didn't want to play along anymore. Why didn't you believe me?"

"I guess in the end, I thought you would do as I asked. You always have…" A tremor rippled through the older man, and he sighed heavily.

"No one is as predictable as you would have me be, Albus," Snape said quietly.

"No, I suppose not…and it was quite a lot to ask."

"Yes, it was," Snape stated flatly.

"What about the vow?" Dumbledore asked simply, worry shadowing his eyes.

"Well, as you can see, I'm still here… I promised to fulfill Draco's task. There isn't any time limit on it. However, it is imperative that you die at my hand and no other…so we should probably not waste any more time. You're hurt." Snape withdrew his wand and passed it over Dumbledore quickly. "Poison?" He frowned in concentration.

"Not exactly… Something green and glowing…a potion. It caused fear, hesitation…"

Snape nodded in understanding. "Yes, I recognize it." He pulled a small dragonhide bag from under his robes and extracted several vials. Uncorking two of them, he held the first to Dumbledore's mouth and bade him drink. He did, and Snape repeated the procedure with the second vial. Then he watched his patient for a few moments, when Dumbledore's breathing seemed to ease and color returned to his face, he put everything back in his case and stowed it away again. "That will do for now. Can you stand?"

Dumbledore nodded, but Snape kept a steadying hand under his elbow and assisted him to his feet, just in case. Once he was upright and apparently stable, Dumbledore looked at Snape once more. "Before we go any further, there's something else you should know," he said with a faint smile.

Before Snape could question him, the Headmaster pointed his hand towards a seemingly blank section of castle wall, and suddenly, Snape found himself face to face with Harry Potter.

As soon as he found himself free to move, Harry snatched off his cloak and ran across the intervening space to grasp Dumbledore's other arm. "Are you all right, sir?" he asked worriedly.

Dumbledore nodded. "Thanks to Severus, I will be. The question is…what do we do now?"

"What will you do with Draco?" asked Snape sharply, glaring warily at Potter…the very last person whom he'd wanted to show up at such a time.

"What would you have me do with him, Severus?" asked Dumbledore.

"Protect him…" Snape began before Potter angrily cut him off.

"Protect him? He's the reason that these Death Eaters got into the castle tonight! He's the reason someone might be dead downstairs! If he hadn't lost his nerve at the last moment, he'd have killed you, too. You can't protect him. He deserves to join his father in Azkaban."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore answered hurriedly, trying to forestall Snape who had also opened his mouth to speak, "But perhaps not. You heard him, Harry. Voldemort has threatened his family if he does not do as he's been ordered. I think it's obvious that Draco realizes that he made a mistake…as many have before him…but rectifying that mistake will not be easy without help and help is what he shall have."

He turned to Snape. "I offered Draco asylum. He could not see any way to accept it earlier, perhaps he will feel differently now. We must get his mother to safety as well. That will be your job, Severus."

Snape nodded.

Dumbledore turned to look down on the bodies strewn across the flagstones. "The remaining Death Eater's memories can easily be modified...as can Greyback's. The only difficulty will be explaining your role in this, Severus."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "But, sir…I had no role. I was stunned as soon as I set foot on the tower roof. I don't know where the blow came from, but I was rushing to your aid as I was told to do by Professors McGonagall and Flitwick."

"Ah, of course," Dumbledore said with a smile. "We should probably make it look good then, don't you think?"

Looking as if he'd just swallowed a rather disgusting flobberworm, Snape nodded. "I suppose so." 

Then he turned to Harry, who still had a rather hostile expression on his face, and said brittlely, "It's your lucky day, Potter. You get to stun me into oblivion without losing so much as a point from Gryffindor. Do try to control yourself, though. I have a lot to do this evening…and time is growing short for all of us."


	75. Marketing Genius

**Marketing Genius**

**(Humor/G...characters: Lucius Malfoy, Molly Weasley, Narcissa Malfoy, Severus Snape and Lord Voldemort)**

Voldemort whipped his long cloak around him and lounged confidently in his chair. "Go on…take a look. I'm sure you'll like them." His lidless eyes flashed as his pale lips stretched in a caricature of a smile.

Snape and Malfoy threw skeptical glances at each other before warily shoving up the sleeves that covered their left arms and staring down at their Dark Marks, which had somehow changed overnight.

Voldemort waved a hand airily. "I thought it might be a morale booster. Marks tailored to your inner selves. Each one individual, but enhanced by my magic and, of course, still linked to my pleasure. One must maintain order, after all. What do you think?"

Snape looked down at the viper that coiled tightly around the image of a cauldron, steam rising in spirals that echoed the curves of the snake's body. Not much of an improvement to his way of thinking, a designer leash was still a leash, no matter how fancy you made it. Nevertheless, he knew his place. "A definite improvement, my Lord."

Lucius squinted closely at the mark on his arm. A large impressive snake encircled something tall, slender, and shimmering, but he couldn't quite make out what it was supposed to be. The Dark Lord noticed his apparent confusion with a smug smile. "It's a mirror, Lucius," he purred. "I do know how you like to look your best."

Malfoy's eyes flashed dangerously for a brief moment before he bowed to hide them, tossing the trailing end of his long white scarf over his shoulder as he did. "Of course, my Lord, an excellent choice."

Voldemort leaned back in his chair. "I believe this will allow me to attract even more followers. Before long, my Dark Marks will become this year's must have trendy fashion statement. It's already been a huge hit. They're lining up to get one…a bag of sherbet lemons for Dumbledore, anything in tartan for McGonagall, knitting needles for Molly Weasley…I should have thought of this before. It's marketing genius."

Just then the door to the audience chamber was thrown open and a Death Eater threw himself inside while wrestling with what looked like an enormous blue snake made of wool that seemed determined to strangle him. "My Lord," he gasped. "All the handicrafts that Molly Weasley gifted us with are…are…aggghr."

His last words drowned in a disturbing gurgle as the scarf gained the upper hand.

Suddenly the silk scarf that encircled Lucius Malfoy's own neck began to tighten uncomfortably as Molly Weasley herself stepped into the room over the now limp body of the Death Eater in the fluffy blue scarf.

"What a wonderful idea these cursed knitting needles were, My Lord. I've never felt so powerful in my life. Thank you so much for this wonderful gift."

She beamed at Voldemort, who nodded benevolently. "I needed to clean house a bit and administer some discipline, and it occurred to me that no one was likely to have more experience at that than you, my dear."

Molly turned away and focused her eyes on Malfoy, who was pulling frantically on his scarf now as it twisted itself tighter and tighter. "You've hurt my family for the last time, Lucius," she said with a laugh.

"No …you can't…." His defiant words were lost in his gurgling attempts to draw breath into his constricted throat as the world grew hazily red and black for Lucius Malfoy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Suddenly, Lucius sat bolt upright in bed, his silk sheets drenched with sweat and Molly Weasley's name on his lips.

Narcissa turned over and peered at her husband in annoyance. "Lucius, if you want to annoy me by calling out some other woman's name while we're in bed together, at least make it someone believable. Now go back to sleep, you need your beauty rest. You want to look your best for your audience with the Dark Lord tomorrow."


	76. Ripples in the Pond

Challenge 112: the Azkaban Challenge…After the war is over, one character visits another in Azkaban prison.

Characters: Remus Lupin and Severus Snape

Rating: PG

Summary: The hand of fear reaches out to claim more victims even after Voldemort's destruction.

**Ripples in the Pond**

**by shadowycat**

The cell door creaked open and a harsh voice rasped, "You've got ten minutes, no longer."

Lupin turned away from the small barred window in time to hear a low voice answer coldly in return. "I understand."

Then Severus Snape swept into the small cold cell in a flourish of black robes. The two men simply stared at each other across the few feet of free space as the door closed behind Snape and the footsteps of the guard receded.

Finally Lupin broke the silence with a sigh. "Since you're here instead of Harry or Minerva, am I to assume that the news you bring isn't good?"

Snape's eyes shifted briefly away, glancing around the barren cell before returning to the man in rags standing quietly before him. "Potter is fighting on irrationally. It's what he does when he cannot accept defeat, I suppose. Minerva was…overwrought. So when the final decree came down, I told her that I would come in her place."

Lupin smiled. "Thank you, Severus. You're right, Minerva's done enough. She didn't need to be the one to deliver such news."

Silence stretched between them again, growing awkward before Snape broke it once more. "I see you ended up with one of the northern cells. Not the best accommodations."

Lupin snorted and shook his head. "So I understand, though I find it hard to believe that one cell is that much better than another here. What side were you on?"

"The south side. It tends to be warmer."

Lupin nodded. "Ah…well, that makes sense. There's a very persistent, icy wind on this side of the prison. The difference between being simply cold and positively frigid, I suppose. You were lucky to get out of here when you did. I'm glad that Scrimgeour was willing to listen to reason on that point at least."

Snape's voice took on a tone of disgust. "He had no choice. I'd have been executed with the rest of those marked by the Dark Lord if Minerva hadn't made all of Dumbledore's documents and his pensieve memories public. Once people could see and hear exactly what happened, it made it much harder to simply lump me in with the rest of those accused of being Death Eaters." Snape hesitated before adding, "She did her best for you, too, you know."

"Oh, I know. This was an entirely different situation. With Albus's evidence there for everyone to see and hear, Scrimgeour could make an exception for you and have the people actually support him. That simply wasn't possible in my case." He turned and looked Snape in the eye. "What about Bill Weasley? Has he been spared at least?"

"They were still deliberating that question the last I knew…but it's a moot point. Once all werewolves were condemned with no exceptions, the Weasleys didn't waste any time. Bill was shipped overseas. He and his wife have disappeared somewhere in France, I believe."

"Probably wise on his part," said Lupin. "Even though technically he isn't a werewolf and won't become one, his scars would be a reminder that the curse wasn't completely wiped out. Sooner or later someone would attack him or accuse him of something out of fear. He'll be better off in France…he can have a life there."

Remus hesitated before asking quietly, "Do you know when…"

"The executions have already begun, I believe. Once the verdict came down, Scrimgeour stated publicly that by morning there won't be a werewolf alive in Britain."

"I see."

Lupin turned away and looked out the window at the fading light on the endless waves. "Of course, the whole thing is nonsense anyway. These executions are purely for show…to ease the fears of a populace that's still scared witless even after Voldemort's destruction. No matter what they tell people, they haven't captured every werewolf out there, not by a long shot, and all it will take is one for it to start all over again."

"Hence the Ministry's refusal to grant a single reprieve," murmured Snape.

Silence filled the cell once more. This time it was Lupin who broke it.

"Thank you for bringing me the news, Severus. Please tell Minerva and Harry and everyone else who fought so hard to stop this from happening that I appreciate their efforts. I know they did their best, and they shouldn't feel badly about failing. Truthfully, I doubt there was ever any real chance that they'd succeed. I don't want them to end up feeling guilty because they couldn't persuade Scrimgeour to change his mind. Rational persuasion just doesn't work when faced with so much unreasoning fear and hatred. It's like trying to light a candle in a stiff wind. And the people are still very much afraid."

Snape nodded. "I'll tell them."

"Thank you." He turned back and smiled faintly at Snape. "Frankly, I'm tired. I'm ready for a rest."

Suddenly footsteps echoed in the corridor again and Snape stepped closer and stuck out his hand. "Good bye, Remus. Believe it or not…I wish things had gone differently."

Surprised, Lupin took Snape's hand and shook it solemnly. "Thank you, Severus. I'm glad to know that in the end there were no more ill feelings between us."

Before Snape could respond, the guard opened the door and with a few brisk words, ushered Snape out, closing it firmly behind him.

Once their footsteps had faded away, Lupin opened his hand and looked down at the small capsule that Snape had passed to him. He recognized it. They'd all had them in the war. Swallow it and death would be instantaneous, as well as painless, unlike the death now waiting for him outside his cell.

A fond smile crossed his thin face as he dropped the capsule to the floor, grinding it to powder under his heel. His friends meant well, but he wasn't going to take the easy way out. Not this time. The Ministry had decided to calm the fears of a war weary public by killing hundreds of innocent people. If he was to be one of them, then they were going to have to look him in the eye when they killed him and know it for the act of murder that it was.

Suddenly, slow footsteps approached his door once more and, raising his head high, he waited.


	77. Seeking Advice

**Challenge # 132: Random Elements # 4…use a quill, a book, and a piece of black lacy intimate apparel in your story.**

Rating: PG

Genre: Romance/Humor

Pairing: RL/NT

Summary: Tonks has a new project and Remus is curious.

**Seeking Advice**

"No, too obvious. He'd never fall for that. Maybe… Naw. That won't work."

Tonks's voice floated out into the corridor, causing Remus to pause as he passed her room. Wondering what she was up to, he walked over to her slightly open door and pushed it inward so he could peer into the room.

Tonks was standing on one foot in front of her desk holding a book in her hand and chewing thoughtfully on a quill. Every few moments she'd nod or shake her head. Occasionally she'd turn to the desk and jot something down before burying her head in the book again.

Finally, overcome with curiosity, Remus rapped his knuckles against the door frame and asked, "Hey, Tonks. What are you doing?"

At the sound of his voice, Tonks jumped and spun around to face him, clutching her book to her chest and staring at him with wide eyes, momentarily frozen in place. Then in a sudden rush of movement, she spun back to the desk, shoved the paper she'd been scribbling on into the book and buried both of them under a teetering pile of other books and papers on her cluttered desk. Once that was done, she whirling back around, shoved a hand through her shocking pink hair and said with an unconvincing smile, "Oh, nothing."

"Nothing," Remus commented with a raised eyebrow as he wandered into the room and headed over to stand next to her. "It didn't sound like nothing."

Tonks's face burned furiously. "What do you mean? What did it sound like? Have you been spying on me?"

He shook his head. "Not at all, I was just walking by and the door was open, and I heard your voice. You sounded as if you were trying to figure something out…something important."

Tonks clasped her hands together and waggled the fingers back and forth nervously as she sat down on the edge of the desk. "Well…yes, I suppose I was, but it's not important, not really."

"Nothing I could help you with then?" he asked.

"No…uh uh," she answered, shaking her head firmly. "No."

"Okay, then I guess I'll see you at dinner," Remus said with a slight frown, wondering why she seemed so nervous, but deciding not to pry any further. If she didn't want to talk, she didn't.

As he turned to head back to the door, Tonks stood up quickly to follow him and dislodged the pile of books and papers on her desk as she moved.

They both dived for the fallen books at the same time and narrowly avoided bumping heads. As he scooped up papers and books, Remus found himself holding the one that Tonks had been flipping through so avidly.

"How to get that special guy to notice you?" Remus read aloud with a smile.

"Give me that," Tonks exclaimed as she snatched the book from his grasp and, standing up, slapped it down on the desk again along with her arm full of papers. Her face was now as brilliantly colored as her hair.

Shooting an embarrassed glance sideways at him, she said, "Don't laugh, okay."

Remus stood and tried to banish the smile from his face. It wasn't easy. "I won't. I promise. I don't know why you'd need a book like that though. I'd think that guys would be lining up to take you out."

"Really?" she asked with a look of surprise on her face.

"Really," he answered quite seriously.

"Well, the one that I really want to ask me out doesn't seem to have noticed me…so I figured maybe I could use some pointers or something."

"Ah." He nodded in understanding. "Do you think the book was useful?"

She shrugged and fidgeting with her hair again. "I'm not sure. Maybe."

"What did it suggest you do?" he asked, curious about what sort of advice one would get from a book like that.

She chewed on her lip for a moment before answering. "Um, well…lots of things. Most of them I'd probably be too embarrassed to try or they just wouldn't work, you know. Like it suggested I try to cook dinner for him…but…"

Remus grimaced and shook his head, knowing as well as Tonks did that wherever her talents lay, it wasn't in the kitchen. "No, probably not a good idea. What else did it suggest?"

"That I give him lots of compliments…tell him how nice he looks, how smart he is, stuff like that."

"Hmmm…flattery might work with some people, I suppose, but I'd think that sincerity would go further. Maybe striking up a conversation about things that concern you both."

Tonks nodded. "That's what I was thinking too…absolutely." The tense set of her shoulders began to relax slightly.

"It also suggested that I…that I dress up for him."

"Dress up? Wear something special, you mean."

Her cheeks flamed again. "Well, yes…in a way. Special, to let him know just how I feel about him."

Remus nodded. "Okay. That makes sense."

Silence fell between them for a few moments before Tonks rushed in to fill it.

"Look, Remus, would you mind? I have this special gown that I bought. I mean, could I try it out on you? To see what you think? You don't have to," she added hurriedly, without waiting for him to answer.

He smiled warmly at her, trying to put her at ease. "Sure, I'd be happy to give you an opinion. I don't mind at all."

Tonks expelled a quick nervous breath. "Great, I'll just be a minute, don't go away."

"Okay, I won't."

Tonks flew across the room, closed the door to the hallway tightly, turned back and smiled a brief embarrassed smile before crossing the room to her bathroom and disappearing inside, closing the door behind her.

While he waited, Remus slid the book out from under the pile of papers and began to thumb through it, idly wondering who Tonks was so desperate to impress. As he was running down a mental list of all the possibilities he could think of, the door to the bathroom opened once more and Tonks, dressed in a gorgeous, form fitting, extremely low cut, black lace negligee stood poised in the doorway with a smile on her face.

"Well…what do you think?" she asked shyly.

Remus's mouth dropped open, and he found himself at a true loss for words. All he could do was stare.

Encouraged by his silence, Tonks glided across the floor to stand in front of him, reaching out a hand to caress his cheek lightly. "Would this work for you, Remus?" she whispered softly.

"Oh, yes," he murmured equally softly. "You look absolutely amazing."

"Good," she said with a smug smile, as she slid her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him. "I guess that book knew what it was talking about after all."


	78. Tarnished

Challenge # 87: The Angry Voices Challenge…two characters have a loud argument and are overheard.

Title: Tarnished

Rating: PG

Characters: Fenrir Greyback, Peter Pettigrew, and Severus Snape

Author's Notes: My thanks to stroppyprof for sparking the idea.

**Tarnished**

"Out of my way, Worm," snarled Greyback in his cold raspy voice.

Before Pettigrew could do as demanded, he found himself grabbed roughly by the shoulder and shoved head first into the nearest wall.

As the werewolf's laughter echoed loudly in his ears, something inside the small man snapped and he lashed out with his foot, sweeping the legs out from under his tormentor.

Greyback fell heavily to the floor and before he could do more than turn over, Pettigrew was on him, holding his silver hand inches from the man's throat.

"Don't push me, Greyback," he yelled at the much larger man. "The Master has given me the means to deal with the likes of you."

To Pettigrew's surprise, Greyback smiled, revealing a mouth full of pointed teeth. "You think so do you, Worm? Why don't you try it?"

Pettigrew hesitated, now that his initial rush of adrenaline had ebbed, his natural state of fearful uncertainty began to reassert itself. Why would Greyback want Pettigrew to cut him? Silver was poison to werewolves, the mere touch of it would burn like a red hot poker. Something was wrong. He should be the one wielding the power here, yet somehow the small man had a sinking feeling that the scales had shifted without his noticing.

"Go on, Worm. Cut me," spat Greyback viciously. "You want a piece of me, now's your chance. I don't give many of them, so what are you waiting for? Do it."

The venom in the werewolf's tone spurred Pettigrew on. He extended his hand and pressed it into Greyback's cheek before pulling it down over the man's skin. Blood seeped out of the resultant cut, but no howls of pain, no stink of burned flesh, accompanied his attack.

As Pettigrew stared at his beautiful silver hand in dismay, Greyback's own hand shot out and grabbed him by the throat, shoving Pettigrew off him with a squeak of fear and slamming the small man into the wall beside where they lay.

Greyback's long ragged nails pressed deeply into Pettigrew's throat, drawing blood as the man squirmed helplessly. "So you thought your Master had given you a powerful gift, huh? Thought it would protect you from your enemies as well as your former friends."

Pettigrew's eyes widened at Greyback's words and the werewolf laughed. "Yes, I know who you really fear. You're so pathetic. Did you honestly believe that your Master would give a weak-kneed turncoat like you a weapon that could be turned against his most powerful and loyal allies? You really are good for nothing more than spare parts."

Greyback leaned forward, his fetid breath warming Pettigrew's pale cheeks. "Your hand may look like shining silver, Worm, but it's made of magic and your Master can make it vanish into smoke any time he wants."

Pettigrew gasped deeply through his abused throat as Greyback removed his hand and climbed back to his feet.

"Keep to your place, Worm, and try not to annoy your betters. You'll live longer that way," he sneered as he aimed a final kick at Pettigrew's stomach and headed off on his way down the corridor.

As Pettigrew's sobs of pain faded to faint gurgles, Severus Snape closed a nearby door and leaned against it thoughtfully.

How interesting. He knew there'd been quite a bit of speculation about Pettigrew's silver hand ever since Potter reported its existence. Though he hadn't admitted it outright, he'd seen the nervousness in Lupin's eyes whenever the subject had come up. This bit of information would set all that speculation to rest, easing many minds.

He smiled to himself. That is, it would if he decided to pass it on.


	79. Opportunities

Challenge # 154: The Random Elements Challenge # 8

Title: Opportunities

Rating: G – PG

Characters: Remus Lupin and Minerva McGonagall

**Opportunities**

Minerva paused outside the castle and adjusted her hat. The fresh gleaming snow covering everything had been an irresistible lure, and she'd decided that now that the students were gone for the holidays, she could indulge herself with a bit of a break and take a walk through the sparkling whiteness.

Before she could take a further step, and with a suddenness that made her flinch, a firm icy ball knocked the hat from her head, sending it soaring into a nearby drift and showering her with cold snow that trickled down her neck uncomfortably.

With a gasp, she whirled around to see the laughing figure of Remus Lupin standing a few feet away with very snowy mittens on his hands and an expression on his face that was far too smug for her liking.

Narrowing her eyes, she bent quickly, scooped up a glove full of snow, patted it into shape in an instant with years of long practice and let fly an answering volley. The cold i thwap /i of a face full of snow effectively wiped the smile from his lips and replaced it with a look of surprise.

He recovered more quickly than she hoped however, and the battle was on. The two of them dodged around the courtyard, through stone archways, around various bits of statuary and behind convenient trees, scooping up snow and sending balls of it flying back and forth with varying degrees of accuracy.

A full half hour disappeared into nothing before, exhausted, cold, and wet through, the two of them collapsed onto the same snow covered bench, laughing loudly in the watery light of late afternoon.

Once their amusement had faded away, they simply gazed at each other contentedly for a few moments until Minerva broke the silence that had heretofore been broken only by laughter, labored breathing and the sounds of a battle, well and truly waged.

"Oh, that was fun! I haven't indulged in a snowball fight in years! Thank you, Remus," she said with a smile as she sat up and brushed bits of snow from her hair.

Remus chuckled and pulled a clean handkerchief from a pocket, shaking it out, and offering it to her. "Well from the accuracy of your aim and the alacrity with which you picked up the challenge, I'd never guess that you haven't indulged in years. Your aim is brilliant. I wouldn't have picked you for the snowball fight type, Minerva. Obviously I'd have been wrong."

Accepting his handkerchief with a nod of thanks, Minerva used it to clean the moisture from her glasses before putting them back on her face and raising an eyebrow to peer back at him.

"Yes, you would. I never shrink from a challenge. Surely you've realized that about me by now. I've always had rather good aim, actually, and it's a pleasure to put it to use."

He nodded ruefully, remembering how often she'd hit her mark. "You certainly do. Next time teams are formed, I want you on my side."

"We'll see," she smiled slyly. "It depends on who else is playing. Filius has a deadly arm you know and his small stature makes him very difficult to hit."

"Good to know. Perhaps we should organize a mock battle amongst the staff. It's very good practice for hand to eye coordination."

"Perhaps, but let's leave that for another time," she said with a sigh, as she stood up. "Right now, I am frozen solid and want nothing more than a nice hot cup of tea and a bit of a rest by the warmth of the staffroom fire. Will you join me?"

He stood as well. "Sounds wonderful to me. Will there be biscuits?" he asked hopefully.

She laughed as the two of them headed back across the grounds to the front door. "If Filius or Albus hasn't got to them first, I imagine there will. If not we can simply ask the house-elves for some. I'm sure they'll be quite happy to oblige." Minerva paused to pluck her hat from the snowbank where their battle began and dusted it off as they hurried on into the castle suddenly anxious to get in out of the cold.

Once they'd shaken the snow from their cloaks and hung them in the hall closet, they headed down the corridor to the staffroom, slightly damp, pleasantly tired, and with prickly cheeks rosy from the cold.

Once they'd reached their destination, Minerva paused to push open the door, but before she could manage it, Remus grasped her arm gently and turned her back to face him. She brought her eyes up to meet his but before she could form a question, she found herself swept into a sudden kiss. Sweet and lingering, but with a hint of hidden passion, the unexpected pleasure of it took her breath away and set her heart to racing, coloring her cheeks even deeper with a rising flush of warmth.

When he released her and stepped back, his face was as flushed as her own. "I hope you'll forgive me for taking the liberty, Minerva," he said with a wry little smile as he pointed upwards at a fat bunch of mistletoe dangling over her head on a red ribbon.

Her eyes sparkled and a smile pulled at the corners of her lips. "Remus Lupin, what's got into you today?"

"I'm not sure. As with the snowball fight, it just seemed like too good an opportunity to miss." He smiled warmly at her.

Cocking a speculative eyebrow his way, she took his arm in hers and guided him into the staffroom at her side. "Well then, we'll just have to see what other good opportunities we can find. After all, the day is still young…"


	80. The Kiss of Fate

Title: The Kiss of Fate

Rating: PG

Characters: Remus Lupin and Sybill Trelawney

Genre: Humor

Summary: Sybill decides to take up a new hobby…unfortunately, she can't do it alone.

**The Kiss of Fate**

Sybill stood in the corridor and stared thoughtfully after the young couple she'd just shooed out from behind the statue of Maltrese the Malingerer. They'd been quite engrossed in their kissing when she'd peered into the dim recess behind the large reclining figure and caught them in the act. So engrossed in fact, that they'd seemed totally oblivious to the odd sounds they were making. Those rather moist sucking and smacking sounds had attracted her attention several feet down the corridor as she'd headed back to her tower from her weekly trip to the room of requirement.

Kissing could be a rather noisy affair apparently. Idly she wondered why? It didn't seem as if it would have to be, but then she'd never kissed anyone herself, so she could hardly speak from experience. Oh, she'd planted the odd kiss on a reluctant cheek, but never full on someone's lips with their enthusiastic cooperation. She told herself that she preferred the uplifting life of the mind and spirit to the rather obvious and pedestrian life of the flesh, but the truth was…she really hadn't had the opportunity to give real kissing a try. Had she been missing out?

All those couples she'd interrupted over the years did seem to be enjoying themselves. In fact, kissing seemed to be a very popular hobby among the students. Perhaps she should give it a try. Just to see what all the fuss was about. Most likely it wouldn't measure up to its reputation; almost nothing ever did, well, except chocolate, of course, but she'd never know for sure unless she experienced it herself.

The problem with pursuing kissing as a hobby was that it wasn't a solitary pursuit. One simply needed more than one pair of lips to make a proper job of it. But where could she manage to gain access to that necessary second pair? Who should she approach?

She frowned. Her choices were far from innumerable and none seemed truly ideal.

As she stood there mentally sorting through the possibilities, Remus Lupin came slowly around the nearest corner absorbed in reading a handful of papers. As Sybill watched, he shuffled the top sheet onto the bottom of his pile and continued to read, heading straight for her.

Clearly here was a stroke of divine providence if she'd ever seen it. Sybill smiled to herself and considered Lupin thoughtfully. Not a bad choice. He was tall enough so she wouldn't have to slouch but not so tall that she couldn't reach his lips. He was old enough that she wouldn't get in trouble with Minerva as she might if he was still a student, the woman was as inflexible as iron on some points…no imagination, but young enough to still be capable, and he wasn't otherwise attached as far as she knew. Though it wasn't as if she was looking for an attachment. Oh dear, no! One kiss was all she wanted. Surely he'd be willing to cooperate?

Dismissing a momentary doubt, Sybill went back to assessing Lupin's suitability. His clothes were a bit shabby. He could really do so much better if he tried, adding some color would help immeasurably, but that was hardly important for a single kiss. All that was really required was that he had lips, and now that she looked at them, she had to admit his were quite nice…full and rather sensuous, and when he smiled, it was pleasant to look at.

Sybill smiled herself. Surely he'd do. She could certainly do worse. She snorted loudly. Around here, she could actually do a lot worse.

At the sound of Sybill's rather loud snort, Remus looked up from his reading, startled to find he wasn't alone. Sybill, having made up her mind and not wanting to waste any more time, marched right up to him and grasped his arm firmly with a ring bedecked hand.

"Professor Lupin…Remus, how fortunate you've come! It is all right to call you Remus, isn't I?" She smiled flutteringly at him.

Remus blinked, suddenly wary. Sybill had barely glanced his way in the few weeks he'd been teaching at Hogwarts and he'd been quite content to maintain that state of affairs. So this sudden burst of rather close attention took him totally by surprise.

"Hello, Sybill. Of course, you may call me Remus. We're colleagues, after all. May I help you with something?" As her smile widened to dazzling proportions, he had a sinking feeling that he was going to be rather sorry he'd asked.

"Yes, my dear, you may indeed. I've been shooing kissing couples out of the shrubbery and out from behind the odd bit of statuary for years, and it just occurred to me that kissing is an activity I've sadly neglected in my own life. The students all seem to enjoy it so much. I thought that perhaps I'd been missing out. What do you think?"

She paused and looked at him expectantly.

Remus simply stared at her. He couldn't possibly have heard her right. "Kissing?? Yes, um, well, kissing certainly is enjoyable…with the right partner. You mean you've never…uh, never…"

She shook her head, bangles and beads clashing together in a sharp counterpoint to her movement. "No, at least, not a proper kiss. I think it's time to change that. My horoscope told me that I should not fail to take advantage of learning a new skill today! And here you are and here I am! We mustn't deny fate now, must we?"

The color drained from Remus's face. If kissing him was what she meant by fate, he sure as hell thought it was worth trying to deny it.

His eyes slid from her avid face and began to scan the corridor for someone to offer up as a better alternative. The corridors, usually so full of people, remained stubbornly empty unfortunately. Where the hell was Peeves with a bucket of icy water when you really needed him?

"Uh…I may not be your best choice…" He stammered out as he frantically tried to come up with an excuse she'd listen to.

"Why not? You have lips," Sybill stated matter of factly.

Remus stared at her in astonishment. How the hell did you argue with logic like that? Of course he had lips; that was hardly the point. What mattered was that he really had no desire to let his lips get any closer to her lips.

Sybill saw no point in wasting time however, having dazzled him with her logic, she simply swooped in, grabbed him in what felt like a wrestling hold and kissed him, scattering his papers across the corridor.

In a flash, Remus found himself caught up in the most enthusiastic, overly moist, and spectacularly disorganized kiss he'd ever been party to. Clearly Sybill had been telling the truth when she said she'd never kissed anyone before, her aim was less than specific, her teeth got in the way, and she clearly had no idea at all what to do with her tongue. By the time Remus had recovered his equilibrium enough to try to respond, feeling that since he appeared to have no choice in the matter, he really should make some effort, she'd pulled away from him with a frown.

"Was that the best you could do?" she asked with a look of disappointment, clearly unimpressed.

He could feel his face flame bright red. No, as a matter of fact that wasn't even close to the best he could do, but he caught himself before he could say so out loud. The last thing he should be doing was arguing with her. Did he really want her asking to try again?

"Sorry, you caught me by surprise," he murmured hastily.

"Oh, should I have announced I was ready before the kiss began? I'm afraid that the fates didn't give me any guidance on the finer points of kissing etiquette."

That wasn't all the fates had been reticent to provide guidance on, he thought to himself. Some practical pointers wouldn't have been amiss, either.

"Well, no point in trying again, I suppose," she looked rather sorrowfully at him. "It can only be the first time once…" If that was all there was to kissing, she certainly couldn't understand why it was so popular.

Remus felt a twinge of sorrow at the crushing disappointment that seemed to overflow from Sybill's much magnified eyes. He felt as if he'd accidentally kicked a puppy. And, with a vague sense of horror, he heard himself say, "We could consider that one just practice…you know, before your first i real /i kiss."

Brightening immediately, she smiled a toothy smile. "You mean you want to do it again?"

Hell no, he didn't want to do it again, but under the circumstances, he sort of felt he should. Or spend the rest of the day feeling like a cad.

She reached out and patted him consolingly on the arm. "It's really very kind of you to offer, but if I'm to pursue this as a hobby, I think I need to find someone who has a bit more experience at kissing than you seem to. You understand, don't you? I wouldn't want to hurt your feelings after you were so kind as to oblige me this way. It's hardly your fault if you aren't an expert in this area."

Remus's mouth fell open in surprise, but he found himself nodding in agreement. Apparently fate wasn't completely against him after all. "Right…absolutely. You definitely deserve someone more experienced than I am. Someone older and wiser…who really knows what they're doing and could guide you in learning. I couldn't agree more."

"What an excellent idea! And where better to find a teacher than in a school? I shall have to be careful who I choose, though. Obviously simply having lips isn't enough," she said thoughtfully.

Imagine that, thought Remus, carefully holding his tongue.

Sybill clapped her hands in delight. "I know! I'll do a totality reading on each of the men in the school…a star chart, tarot readings, tea leaves, crystal gazing….the complete work up. Then I'll know without a doubt which one to choose. One shouldn't simply jump into these things unawares. That only leads to disappointment, obviously."

Firmly ignoring the inner grumbling from his affronted ego that was telling him to grab her and prove that he knew very well how proper kissing should be done, Remus simply nodded in agreement. "Obviously…" he agreed.

With a vague smile in his direction, she wandered off down the corridor muttering to herself about which tea would provide the proper sort of dregs and wondering if the house elves had any chicken entrails they'd be willing to part with. As she disappeared around the corner, Remus bent down and began to gather his scattered papers.

Should he warn the staff what was coming? Naw… He grinned to himself. It didn't seem right to interfere with Sybill's quest for knowledge or with all the enjoyment that quest was likely to bring to those watching from the sidelines. As he headed off to his next class, he found himself wondering just who the unlucky man would be.


	81. Spinning

Challenge #46: Lust

Rating: PG

Characters: Remus Lupin, Luna Lovegood, Poppy Pomfrey

**Spinning…**

Poppy stepped back and wiped her hands on her apron. "That's all I can do for the moment. He'll be okay, I think. Though I will need to get some skelegro into him to reinforce what I did to knit his leg back together, especially where we're so close to the next full moon. I hate the thought of his transformation pulling everything apart again, but with the skelegro, I think the bone itself will hold up."

She looked thoughtful. "We should get some Wolfsbane potion into him, too. He'll do himself far less damage if he isn't spending the night trying to escape from confinement."

"Where do we get Wolfsbane potion now?" asked Luna worriedly, never taking her eyes from the unconscious man in the bed.

Poppy extended a hand and pressed it to Remus's forehead before straightening up with a sigh. "They may not allow werewolves admittance only a few days before a full moon, but I know that someone on staff at St. Mungo's keeps the hospital supplied with the potion for those few affected patients already there. I'll nip over and see if I can't get some from them. It won't take me long. I know just who to ask. Will you watch him for me while I'm gone?" She directed an enquiring look at Luna.

"Of course, I will!" Luna smiled back. "Take your time. I won't leave him alone."

Satisfied, Poppy nodded and reached for her cloak. "Thank you, Luna. I should only be a few minutes."

Then with a final glance at her patient, Poppy turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Once Poppy was gone, Luna looked down at the unconscious Remus Lupin and smiled faintly, reaching out to brush her fingers against his cheek and slowly push an errant strand of hair back from his forehead. Then, with a wistful sigh, she left his bedside and crossed the room to the window.

Pushing back the gauzy white curtain, she gazed down into the virtually empty street below and leaned her head wearily against the casement.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?"

The warm tone of Remus's voice sent a shiver through Luna, and she turned back to the bed abruptly.

"You're awake!" Then the sense of his words penetrated her thoughts and she blushed. "Beautiful? I'm not beautiful."

"Yes, you are," he said. "With the sunlight hitting your hair like that it looks like gold. You look like an angel, complete with glowing halo."

"Oh." She dropped the curtain and crossed the room to sit by his side on the bed. "That's just an illusion. Everyone looks better with golden light glistening around them."

He smiled up at her appreciatively. "Well, you don't need sunlight to improve your looks, Luna. You're equally lovely in shadow."

Remus pushed himself up into a sitting position, allowing the sheet to slide down over his naked chest as she watched appreciatively. Luna's breath caught in her throat as his warm eyes smiled into her own and he reached out to caress her cheek with a gentle hand.

"In fact, you're one of the most lovely young women I've ever met," he whispered softly as he brought up his other hand, cupping her face gently, pulling her slowly towards him.

Mesmerized, she reached out for him, letting her hands slide along his arms and shoulders, enjoying the feeling of warm flesh and hidden strength under her fingertips. Her hands slipped behind his body, embracing him as he pulled her closer, closer until his lips hovered over hers.

Almost touching, he whispered, "So lovely…" Just the faintest breath brushed her lips and she gasped, parting them ever so slightly before he brought his mouth down over hers, kissing her softly, lightly, then with a deeper passion. His hands slid from her cheeks into her hair then around her shoulders, pulling her against his chest.

She could feel the comforting warmth of his body pressing against hers; the pounding of her heart, a staccato counterpoint to his own.

"Luna…" Suddenly his mouth was on her cheeks and her eyelids and her neck, his voice whispering her name over and over…drowning her with his presence.

"Luna, Luna…Luna…"

** "Luna!!" **

"Oh!" Luna gasped and turned away from the window to see Poppy standing in the doorway holding a box full of glass bottles.

"You were a million miles away," Poppy said with a smile as she walked briskly over to the bed and set her burden down on the bedside table. Then she bent to press her hand to her patient's forehead. "I asked you how he's been, but you didn't hear me. It doesn't look as if he's moved at all."

"No," Luna answered guiltily. "He hasn't moved since you left."

"Hmmm…he feels a bit warm," Poppy said with a frown. "I hate to wake him but I do need to get these potions into him. Then he'll have to be watched carefully for the next couple of days."

Poppy looked up at the girl, who had crossed the room to stand closely at her elbow, watching.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to stay with him all the time. I have other patients I need to tend to as well. Could you possibly stay and keep an eye on him for awhile? I'll send you some relief in a few hours."

Luna smiled brightly at Poppy. "Of course. There's no need to send anyone. I'll stay as long as he needs me…"


	82. Promise of a Traitor

Challenge #156: Someone is given a second chance

Rating: G

Characters: Minerva McGonagall and Remus Lupin

Summary: Minerva gets an expected package from someone she no longer feels she can trust.

**Promise of a Traitor**

Minerva McGonagall stood at the window in what was now her office and stared out across the grounds of Hogwarts with troubled eyes. Every few moments, she'd turn her glance towards the desk and the small box sitting in its very center. Then she'd look up at the office door, check her watch, pace a few aimless but precise steps and retreat back to the window with a sigh.

When the desired knock finally came, it still managed to take her by surprise. "Come in," she answered impatiently.

The door opened and Remus Lupin stepped inside, a curious look on his face. "You wanted to see me, Minerva?"

Forcing a smile, Minerva stepped closer to her desk. "Yes, thank you for coming so quickly, Remus."

Remus smiled uncertainly. "Of course, I came. You said it was urgent. Is anything wrong?"

Minerva let out a sigh and shrugged. "I'm not sure." Gesturing towards the open box on her desk, she continued, "I received this with the post this morning. It's really meant for you."

"Me?" exclaimed Remus in surprise as he walked across the room to stare down into the box. It was full of sealed bottles, familiar looking sealed bottles. Reaching into the box, he pulled one out and gazed at it for a moment before raising his eyes to hers. "Wolfsbane potion? From Severus?"

Minerva picked up a small piece of parchment from the desk and handed it to him. "This was in the box."

Remus took the slip of parchment and read it. The message was simple: i For Lupin. I keep my promises. /i 

Remus raised both eyebrows at that. "That's unexpected. What do you think?"

Minerva frowned. "I don't know what to think. Is it really from Severus? And if so…why? What does he hope to accomplish?"

Remus looked at the slip of parchment again. "Well, it's certainly his handwriting, and these bottles are just the sort he used, sealed as he always sealed them when he had to deliver the potion somewhere outside Hogwarts."

Thoughtfully, he dropped the parchment to the desk and broke the seal on the bottle in his hand, raising it to his nose and taking a deep sniff of the contents. With a faint grimace of disgust, he pulled the bottle away again. "Definitely Wolfsbane potion."

Making a decision, Remus then raised the bottle to his lips for a taste of the contents.

Minerva reached out and grasped his wrist, forcing him to stop. "Don't!"

Remus stared at her seriously. "There's only one way to know for sure, Minerva."

"It's too dangerous. What if it's poisoned?" Releasing his wrist, she took up her pacing once more before turning back to Remus with a gesture of exasperation.

"Why? Why would he send this? Why would he honour a promise he always acted as if he didn't want to keep, to a man he murdered? It doesn't make any sense."

Remus considered the bottle in his hand, its contents gleaming amber in the light from the window. "Perhaps he's trying to tell us something…or show us something."

"What? That we should trust him after all? After what he did?"

"Maybe he wants a second chance?"

"For Merlin's sake, Remus, why should we give him one? He murdered Albus. He's forfeited our trust by his actions. He has to know that."

"I'm sure he does know that. This could be his way of trying to regain it. No one spoke to him afterwards. No one knows why he really did what he did. All we have are questions and assumptions and…bitterness."

Minerva looked troubled and stared uncertainly down at the box.

Remus sighed. "Look, I don't know for certain what Severus means by sending this, but the man always has a reason for everything he does. This potion is damned difficult to make. It takes a huge amount of time and effort. I can't see him going to that much trouble just to poison me. He has no reason to believe I'd even drink the stuff, coming from him. Yet he's made no attempt to hide the fact that the potion did come from him. He wants us to know. I think he's trying to prove a point. Perhaps we shouldn't give up on him just yet."

"I'd really like to believe that," Minerva whispered. Then she looked up and stated more firmly, "But what if we're wrong?"

Remus shrugged. "Then we're wrong. It won't be the first time, but if we're right…it could make a huge difference." He smiled resignedly. "As I said, there's only one way to be sure. I'm willing to take that chance."

Minerva smiled faintly in return, making up her mind as well. "All right, if you're willing, I won't stop you. Perhaps after the full moon has proved his point one way or the other, we'll hear from him again. This could simply be his way of opening the door."

"If it is, will you let him in?" Remus asked.

"I guess that depends on how well he fulfills his promise."

"Fair enough."

Without further discussion Remus raised the bottle to his lips and Minerva watched him drink.


	83. Taking a Chance

Title: Taking a Chance

Rating: PG

Pairing: Alastor Moody and Amelia Bones

Disclaimer:  Both these characters belong to JKR.  She has all the money and fame; I'm just in it for the fun.

Summary: Two old friends have dinner together.  In Book 4: Goblet of Fire, Harry peers into Dumbledore's pensieve and sees Igor Karkaroff being hauled into court and interrogated by Barty Crouch, Sr. shortly after Voldemort's supposed destruction while Alastor Moody sits in the courtroom and watches.  This story takes place the evening before those events occur. 

Warnings: None

Notes: Written for the HP Beholder fest on Insane Journal 

**Taking a Chance**

The rapid tap tapping on the board in front of her brought a rather grim smile to Amelia Bones's face as she wielded her knife with efficient strokes.  Most witches used their wands for almost anything they did in the kitchen.  They even animated their cutlery to do its own cutting and slicing, but Amelia felt they didn't know what they were missing.  There was something plainly therapeutic about cutting something into tiny regular pieces with a knife and your own two hands.  Particularly after a day in court that didn't really go the way you wanted it to.

Ah, well, here her edicts held sway absolutely and any stray vegetable or wayward chop yielded to her authority with nary a whimper.  Would that life was always so obliging. 

Laying her knife aside, she picked up the cutting board and whisked the mound of vegetables into the pot simmering on the stove.  Then she gave the soup a brief stir, adjusted the flame that kept it simmering, and turned away.  Just as she was about to check the rolls in the oven, a knock sounded on her cottage door.  She glanced up at the clock. 

7:10.   He was late.

Wiping her hands on a towel, she crossed the kitchen and made her way down the narrow hallway that led to her front door, counting knocks under her breath.

One, two, three…pause.  One, two…pause.  One more knock, followed by a longer pause.  Her grey eyes flashed with amusement that she carefully kept from her lips, and she placed her hand on the doorknob and waited.  Finally a shrill whistle pierced the silence and, with a flourish, she twisted the knob and opened the door, being careful not to open it too wide.

"You're late, Alastor.  I was beginning to think you changed your mind," she said to the man standing in front of her door, gazing suspiciously into the nearby shrubbery.

Raising an eyebrow, Alastor Moody turned and regarded Amelia through the half open door.   "Only a few minutes.  I decided to take a new route.  You can't be too careful, you know."

Amelia took a step back and held the door open while Moody came inside, still glancing behind him warily.  "Do you have any reason to think you're being followed, or is this just more of your usual caution?" she asked as she shut the door behind him, turning the latch.  "The war is over, you know."  Turning around, she led the way down the narrow hallway towards the back of the house.

"Nothing is really over, Amelia," Moody spoke glumly as he followed her compact form back into the light and warmth of her kitchen.  "He wasn't destroyed.  I don't care what anyone says, I'll never believe it, and there're plenty of his followers still lurking out there in the darkness just waiting for him to return and start everything back up again.

"You know as well as I do that half of those swearing they were under iImperius/i are just lying through their teeth to save their sorry necks.  And now here's Crouch trying to make a name for himself by bargaining with those guilty, murdering bastards who don't deserve to get off no matter how many other stinking rats they serve up on a platter.  It makes my blood boil!"

Grabbing a bottle of wine and a corkscrew from the counter, Amelia thrust them both at Moody with a frown.  "You won't get any argument from me, you know.  Here, make yourself useful while I get supper on the table."

Moody accepted the bottle and corkscrew automatically and began to pull out the cork while his eyes drifted towards the table long enough to note with approval that the setting, for two, only included one glass.

As Amelia noticed the direction of his gaze, she gave a gruff burst of laughter, slid her hand into an oven mitt and took a tray of hot rolls from the oven.

"No, I haven't forgotten that you won't be drinking with me, Alastor, but surely you don't expect me to drink from that flask in your pocket?  Merlin knows what you keep in that thing!"

Moody snorted as he pulled the cork from the bottle and filled her glass with cold clear liquid, not bothering to answer her directly as the answer seemed obvious.  Instead he shot her a speculative look as she dumped the golden hued rolls into a wicker basket and turned to give the soup one more stir with her spoon.

"Are you planning to be there tomorrow?" he asked.

Her lips tightened and her monocle flashed in the lamp light as she put down her spoon and took up a ladle.

"No, I do not plan to be there.  Sentence was lawfully passed against Karkaroff, and I'm of the belief that it should be carried out to its full extent, as you well know.  Allowing criminals, especially these criminals, to get out of prison by casting aspersions on others only encourages lying.   Karkaroff has spent long enough in Azkaban now to know what it's like, to realise just what he's facing.  He's going to spout any name, make any accusation that he can think of, if it will get him out of prison and away from those Dementors."

She shivered involuntarily.  "And who can blame him?  Crouch knows that nothing these Death Eaters say can be trusted under these circumstances, but he has visions of grandeur dancing in front of his eyes.  Damned pigheaded fool."

Amelia headed for the table with a bowl of soup in each hand.  "Get the rolls, will you?" she added as she set the soup down carefully and took her seat.

Grabbing up the basket of rolls, Moody sat down as well, taking an appreciative sniff of the appetizing scent of fresh rolls and good homemade soup.  "It smells grand, Amelia."

Her face softened and she threw him a smile as she spread her napkin across her lap.  "Thank you.  Now, let's see if we can think of something more pleasant to discuss during dinner, shall we?  Talking about Barty Crouch and his single-minded pursuit of the office of Minister for Magic will only give us both indigestion."

Moody gave a short bark of laughter and nodded his head.  "You're right about that."

Instead of picking up a spoon and dipping it in the soup, Moody paused and looked down at the bowl as if debating with himself for a moment while Amelia watched him tolerantly, making a silent bet with herself, which she won with Moody's next action.

Picking up his bowl, he held it out to her.  With a laugh, she picked up hers as well, offering it for exchange.  As he reached out to grab her bowl, she commented mildly, "You're so predictable, Alastor."

Her comment froze him in place, a bowl of hot soup in each hand, suddenly unsure which bowl to choose.  The last thing he wanted to be was predictable.  Predictable got you killed.

Amelia crossed her arms and shook her head, leaning back in her chair comfortably.  "I know that caution is important and old habits die hard, my friend, but really, how many years have you known me now?  I may not be the world's best cook, but have I ever tried to poison you?  You watched me ladle out both bowls of soup from the same pot.  When could I have slipped something into your bowl that didn't also go into mine?"

His face reddened.  "It only takes a moment, and I was fussing with the wine," he admitted gruffly. 

"Don't you trust me?" she asked softly.

"I haven't been here an hour yet," he mumbled.

Amelia laughed and shook her head again.  "You really are something, Alastor Moody.  I'm not sure just what, but I'll figure it out eventually.  Now give me one of those bowls before you lose your grip on them and make a mess.  You may not be in any hurry to start eating, but I'm famished."

Handing her a bowl, he put the other one down in front of him and began to eat with only a moment's hesitation.  "It's delicious," he said, giving her a sidelong glance.  "You're a damned fine cook, Amelia, and no one makes soup like you do."

She shot him a smile as she reached for a roll and picked up her spoon.  "Thank you.  I know this is your favorite.  That's why I made it."

They ate in companionable silence for awhile, broken occasionally by general discussion about their respective days, and the meal passed pleasantly.

Finally, Alastor sat back in his chair with a gusty sigh.  "I haven't had a meal that good in weeks.  Thanks."

Getting to her feet, Amelia grasped the two empty bowls and began to clear the table.  "You have been looking a bit thin lately.  You're working yourself too hard.  Aren't there any other Aurors in your office?  Or do you still think you're the only one who can hunt down the criminals properly?"

He followed her to the sink, her glass and the now empty basket in his hands.  "I do bring more in than the rest of them put together.  If you want something done right, you need to do it yourself.  You know that as well as I do, Amelia.  You put in some pretty long days, too, it seems to me."

"The length of my day isn't always my choice.  You take on more than your share because you don't believe that anyone else can truly do the job.  I worry about you, Alastor.  You're becoming paranoid.  That won't serve you very well in the end, you know.  Caution is admirable, but it can easily be taken too far.  Sometimes you have to take a chance and trust people."

"I'd have more trust in people if more of them showed they were worthy of it, but they don't.  Over and over again, they just prove how right I am not to trust them." 

He sighed.  The last thing he wanted to do was argue with her.  Setting down the dishes, he stepped back.  "I should be going.  I have a busy day tomorrow."

She laughed shortly.  "Busy…  You know all you're going to do tomorrow is sit there in that courtroom, glaring at everyone, while you mutter disapprovingly under your breath."

He frowned.  "I am, am I?"

"Of course you are.  That's what I'd do, which is why I'm not going, but, though I wish you wouldn't go either, I know better than to ask you not to.  I am going to ask you something else though."  Turning away from the sink she moved closer to him and looked up into his eyes.

"Oh?" He looked down at her seriously.

Fondly, she reached out and stroked his cheek.  "Will you stay with me tonight?  It's been so long since you have.  I know we're both always busy, but let's face it, neither of us is getting any younger."  She let her hand drift towards the still reddened gash in his nose.  "Or any better looking…"

"Speak for yourself.  I happen to think these little mishaps give my face character," he growled softly.

"You don't need more character, Alastor," she said.  "You've already got more than anyone I know."

His face softened.  "You know if I was the marrying kind…"

"Neither of us is the marrying kind, but that doesn't mean we can't grab a bit of happiness along the way, does it?  Please stay."

Sliding his arms around her, he pulled her into an embrace and glanced over her head at the clock above the stove.  "All right, Amelia," he said as he stroked her wiry hair and tilted her face back up to his.  "I'll stay.  It has been much too long, and some chances are worth taking."  With a smile, he bent to kiss her. 

8:20.   At least it wouldn't be a foolish chance.


	84. The Way Home

Written for the LJ challenge community RomancingWizard.

Title: The Way Home

Pairing: Severus Snape/Minerva McGonagall

Rating: G/PG

Romance/Drama

Word count: Exactly 750

Prompt#44. Freedom

Summary: Snape's gift proved that he was alive but had he forgiven her for doubting him? Minerva had to find out.

Minerva turned the Aperdor over in her hand. She'd been carrying it around with her for a week, ever since an owl had unexpectedly dropped it into her morning porridge. Creating one was a lot of work, but opening a stable doorway and stepping through it was certainly a much nicer way to travel than the gut wrenching disorientation of a Portkey. It was a thoughtful gift. Surely he wouldn't have gone to all the trouble of making and sending it unless he'd forgiven her?

But how could he forgive her? She hadn't believed in him when he needed her to. They'd been lovers once but had spent the last year as enemies living uneasily in the same camp. Albus's death had destroyed the intimacy they'd once shared. Yet what she'd believed about that had been a lie. It was past time to sort out the lies and beg his forgiveness, though she wasn't sure she deserved it even if he offered it.

Squaring her shoulders, she placed the small, flat disc with its winged snake engraving against the surface of her full-length mirror. Immediately the disc irised open, and Minerva found herself peering into a large room filled with books, glassware, and the smells of a stillroom.

A cauldron of liquid simmered gently on a hearth. Sunlight dappled the walls and made pleasant patterns on the warm wooden floor. She stepped through the opening, irrationally disappointed that the room was empty. Not that she was likely to find him waiting, he could hardly have known when or even if she'd come.

She turned to examine his books when the rich tones of his voice froze her in place.

"So you finally decided to use the Aperdor. I'd begun to think I'd wasted my time and you didn't want to see me again after all, Minerva."

Minerva looked up to see Snape standing in the doorway to the next room. The intensity of his dark gaze sent a shiver down her back.

"Hello, Severus. I'm sorry I took so long to come. I wasn't sure what to say to you when I saw you again, and I was afraid of what you'd say to me. When I received your gift and knew for sure that you were alive, it opened a door in my heart that I'd thought closed forever."

"You were happy to discover I survived then." A note of relief filled his voice.

She smiled, tears glistening in her eyes. "Oh, yes. I'd been praying that you were alive ever since we discovered your body was missing from the Shrieking Shack. No one knew what happened to you. Despite your disappearance, most people think you're dead."

"Good. They're quite welcome to that belief."

Minerva took a hesitant step towards him. "I owe you an apology. Harry told us everything, but I shouldn't have needed to hear it. I should never have doubted you."

Snape shook his head. "Of course you should have doubted me. Every action I took was meant to make you doubt me. Everyone had to believe I was a loyal servant of the Dark Lord. Even you. Especially you. If the Carrows had suspected anything, they wouldn't have hesitated to kill you. I couldn't take that chance."

"But you shouldn't have had to go through all that alone. If only Albus had trusted me enough to tell me the truth."

"Albus trusted no one, not even me. And he was right. No one could know the truth. It wasn't worth the risk."

"He used you."

"I was willing to be used. The debt I owed was enormous. More than I ever thought I could repay. The mistakes I'd made and the pain I'd caused consumed my entire life for years, but it's over now." Snape smiled one of the first truly genuine smiles she'd ever seen on his face. "I'm finally free. I have a new life, and the only thing I need to make it perfect is you."

Quickly he crossed the room and took her hands in his.

"You've been the best thing in my life, Minerva. You understood me, found value in me as no one else ever has. I need you now. Please say you'll stay with me."

Overwhelmed, she whispered, "Oh, yes…"

Before she could say another word, he slid his arms around her and pulled her against him with sudden ferocity, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss of passionate desire, and she knew she was finally home.


End file.
